Nightmares Escaping
by O'Ryaner Flaudi
Summary: Eragon, a young boy from Carvahall, is hunting in the north when something goes awry. His life is saved, but perhaps not as he wished it to be. Now he must struggle against the twenty-something spirits that reside in his body while a seemingly omniscient entity is trying to guide him; the only free rider in Alagaësia. [my take on the IC as I would have liked to see it] Rating to M
1. Chapter 1

Hello guys.

Lets get the required stuff out of the way first. IC and all characters (except OC's) are property of Christopher Paolini and as such all rights go to him.

Now then. This is my personal take on the IC. It is going to be a rewrite from beginning to end (providing I find the time and courage to see this all the way through ). We are going to see LOTS more ExA than Paolini gave us. I might even write some M rated parts and either up the rating of this story or publish them elsewhere. So, without further ado, enjoy the trailer and first chapter.

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The first snow of the year slowly descended upon the spine – the northernmost mountains of these lands. Eragon watched as one by one, the pristine gifts from the heavens covered the forest in a blanket of white. One fell on his cheek, where it quickly turned to a tear-like drop of water. When it rolled down his cheek, he made no move to stop it. His arms felt heavy, like on those midsummer days when he worked the fields of his late uncle tirelessly. Unconsciously he drifted into those happy memories, finding a small measure of comfort in them.

He wondered where his cousin was. He had only been sixteen when his father passed. Roran had stayed on the farm with Eragon, who was his junior by two years for as long was needed, yet when it became evident Eragon was more than capable of taking care of himself, he had just… packed and left one day.

That was how he lived now. He planets the seeds in the spring, worked the fields by summer, hunted for game in autumn and hoped to survive winter. His face fell to the side, where he could see the perfect crystalline gems of water slowly stain red with blood. His blood. Beyond the snowflakes the ground was seared black and the charred remains of plants smoldered, releasing an ashen smell. And there, in the middle of that newly-formed crater was a rock like no other.

Eragon did not know _how_ , but there, just out of reach, was an egg-like gemstone, sapphire in color and covered with darker veins. The air about it still shimmered with heat. He just wished that whatever higher power it was that sent it, had aimed a little bit better.

Lest he wouldn't be speared through with a branch right now.

Once, a long time ago, when he was handling a cow for the butcher in town, it had kicked him in the stomach. He had been bruised for months. This was worse. The sheer force that had passed through him had likely broken a few ribs. He also couldn't feel his legs anymore. He turned to face the setting sun above him once more.

Slowly, his vision started to haze over with the purest white. He wanted to move forward, embrace it, end the pain that wrecked through his body. Yet some annoying silvery orb was trying to block his way. He reached out to it, tried to move it, but then it was joined by another, a little smaller and orange in color. Then another, and another.

Soon a rainbow of colors was swirling around him. From them, a voice spoke to him. _"Child, why are you so eager to die?"_ It asked. _"After all, it is not yet your time."_

Eragon knew he would be deceiving himself if he chose to believe them. Alagaësia had a plan for everyone, he just knew it. It simply appeared his plan wasn't so… grand. The realization hurt, but not everyone was born to be a hero, a villain or power of a different kind. After all, those people could not exist as beacons throughout the shadows of history without the ordinary people. People like him. Sure, he was young. He had only see the leaves fall seventeen times.

" _Why do you, a mere human, presume to know the workings of the universe. No, it has been decided that you must remain here a little while longer."_ And then all the orbs rushed forward, flowing into him. He could feel them, feel their radiance, their energy, their memories. They coursed through his blood, filled him to the brim and almost tore him apart.

Then he was on the ground again, sucking in air like he had spent an hour under water. With effort he tore the branch from his midriff, cursing and yelling loudly as he did. Underneath his fingers flesh and bone knitted back together, forming whole, undamaged skin once more. Violently he coughed up blood, struggling onto his hands and knees to avoid getting covered in it. What was happening to him?

Eventually he managed to right himself, noting that by now the moon dominated the night sky. He knew that his bow had flown off somewhere into the brushes on his left when the stone had appeared in a blast of fire. He should have had trouble to find it underneath the dense shrubbery by night, yet he could see everything. Every little critter, every single twig and leaf. His bow was right there, scratched, but whole. He took it and slung it over his shoulder. There would be no game for him this winter. Then his eyes landed on the stone – perhaps he could sell it.

Carefully he lifted it into his pack. It was strange, for he should be feeling tired at this time of night. Yet for some reason his mind did not feel dulled, he didn't feel any aching muscle either. No doubt fatigue would catch up with him some time, but for now he just opted to keep walking. If the snow came early this year, he would have to hurry back to his village fast.

By the first night he was getting worried. He hungered not, tired not. By the second afternoon he found a small puddle of water, a crystal clear mirror embedded in the white landscape around him. When he took in his reflection, something somehow seemed wrong to him. He just couldn't quite place his finger on it quite yet.

Then he saw his eyes. They had been a dark blue at his birth, turned hazel by his third year and stayed thus. Now, his left iris was a hue of icy blue azure and the right one had turned a dark shade of violet. As if that didn't stand out enough, they were both lined with vibrant dashes of silver. Also he didn't know if it had to do with the cold, but his skin looked a shade or two paler than he remembered as well. Eragon didn't quite know how to feel about it. Something had altered him without his prior knowledge, that much was clear. Yet he found himself admiring this around him he had simply never noticed before. Things he could not _see_ before.

He walked for another day and another night before he finally came to the outskirts of Carvahall, his birthplace and the village he called home. It was just past noon, but with winter approaching the rays of the sun just barely grazed over the high mountain peaks that shielded this place from the outside world. When he reached the edge of the forest near his home, he rested for a moment. The villagers knew him, and they would instantly know something about him was off. Would they accept the new him? Of course they would. Surely they would not turn their back on him after all the years he had lived amongst them.

Just as he was about to step out of the trees, he saw something that gave him pause. Two figures, robed in black, were questioning Sloan, the village butcher. Their voices sounded off, warped and muffled. Between every word there was a strange clicking sound, as if they closed their jaws with unnatural strength. With them was another man, regal with long, crimson hair and skin of a sickly color white. He made to move forwards anyways – he had done nothing wrong after all – and go home. He could still search out a merchant tomorrow.

When his body moved forward, the wind about him died and an unnatural silence settled on the world around him. He saw Farold, one of the villagers, frozen in mid stride. "Hello Eragon." He whirled around to face the deep male voice that spoke to him. The same voice that had spoken to him on that field where he had lain dying.

"Show yourself." He demanded when the forest behind him seemed empty. From behind one of the trees a hooded figure emerged. Although his eyes were shrouded in darkness, Eragon could clearly see the slight smirk playing about on his lips.

Eragon's eyes drifted across the figure opposite him. At first glance there appeared nothing extraordinary about the hooded man. Upon closer inspection however, what he had first assumed to be the shadows of the forest actually seemed to move with every breath the man took.

"What are you?" Eragon asked.

The shadowy figure chuckled. "All in due time, Eragon. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Icarus, a… gate keeper of sorts. I have been tasked with keeping you mostly alive."

"Mostly?" Eragon asked curiously. "Tasked by who?"

"Suffice to say that you live by my grace, Eragon." With that the figure raised his head, revealing his eyes. One was pierced with a pure azure and the other with violet. "And it is not important for you to know who it is I answer to. In any case, I am here to save you from a world of hurt. See those three?" Icarus gestured to the crimson haired man and his two companions in black. Eragon nodded.

"They have come to kill you." Eragon blinked and drew breath for his next question. Yet when he opened his eyes again, Icarus was gone. The world around him came back to life, Farold continued walking like nothing had happened and he heard Sloan say something to the three men.

"If he isn't at that ruin of a farm of his he is probably frolicking around in the mountains with his toy bow. With a bit of luck he will even get himself killed if you ask me." He silently cursed Sloan to the deepest pits of hell.

"Thank you for your cooperative attitude. It is heartening to know that even so far north our King is looked upon with reverence." The crimson haired man said. Eragon immediately shuffled back into the trees. Instead of taking the road home he stuck to the cover of the trees. When he got to the clearing that held his farmhouse he didn't immediately press forward. Had those three shady figures been here? If they had been they had done a good job at concealing their tracks. He waited for another hour before he was convinced it was safe.

Hurrying across the open field he entered his home. The roof was leaky and the cupboards empty, but at least it was his. He finally felt the previous few days catch up to him and with a last ditch effort he pulled off his clothes before dropping into bed. From his bag he retrieved the stone, holding it up above him as he lay on the mattress. This time when he closed his eyes, dreams did find him.

And it was a dream unlike any other. Around him was a fine mist, it brushed around his fingers and parted as his body cleft through it. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. Then it occurred to him that his feet were not touching solid ground. The clouds around him broke revealing the most breathtaking sight any human would ever behold.

A sprawling, lush city of white unfolded itself underneath him. Somewhere in the back of his mind a name came to him. _Ilirea_. A being of perfect white flew next to him. Upon closer inspection it was a dragon! And a huge one at that. It craned its giant neck to look directly at him. Its jaws opened, revealing sharp teeth and a barbed tongue. Then it spoke to him

" _Eragon, wake up."_

It reached for him with his huge, clawed paw _._

" _Wakey wakey."_ And it tapped him on the forehead.

Eragon frowned. Whatever was tapping against his forehead this early in the morning would face the wrath of a thousand gods. He would tear it to shreds and-

" _squeak."_

And apparently it squeaked kind of cutely. Wait, squeaked? With a start he opened his eyes. Whatever it was it was small and scaly and licking his face. Sitting up to put some distance between his face and his assailant he watched as a most peculiar creature made its way into his lap.

It looked remotely like a lizard, but had proportionally large wings made from a leathery type of tissue. In the moonlight its scales lit up a magical blue hue. _A dragon!_ Looking to his left he saw polished fragments of the stone he had found. A thought occurred to him.

 _Had the stone been an egg?_

Tentatively he reached out to the lizard creature, who had settled on his lap much like a cat, curiously staring up at him. Ever smaller drew the distance between him and it. Then the palm of his hand touched the leathery snout of the dragon.

Big mistake.

A searing pain cut through him, not much unlike when the orbs had possessed his body three days prior. Eragon did not know how long he remained there, curled up on his bed while the dragon silently kept watch. After an eternity in his private universe of pain he regained control of his body. The dragon appeared to sense this too, for it hopped down from the bedpost and nudged him expectantly. When he didn't do anything it demonstratively started gnawing on one of his fingers. Eragon's eyes drifted to the silver mark, smack in the center of his hand with which he had touched the dragon. Hopefully it didn't clash with the eyes, he mused.

"Of course you are hungry." Eragon mumbled to himself, getting up from the bed. "Let me see if I have anything. You stay here." He commanded the dragon in a stern voice. It appeared to have understood him, for it got comfortable on his bed.

A brief search of the house turned up a few remaining strips of jerky and some salted pork. Opting for the more easily chewable pork he returned to his bedroom. Piece by piece he fed the meat to it, watching as its belly noticeably bulged out.

"Congratulations."

Eragon's head whipped up, only to find Icarus lounging lazily against the door. "You know, you could stop popping in at the most inopportune moments." Eragon scolded

"Fortunately every time I appear time stops, so actually when I am here there is no moment."

"Wait, what?"

"Never mind." Icarus said, waving the confused Eragon off. "Fact of the matter is that when your dragon hatched for you it caused a shift in the world."

"Caused one how?"

Icarus stared at him with a look as if he were contemplating if Eragon was truly the most ignorant creature on the face of Alagaësia. "Dragons are the embodiment of magic in its purest form. Magic flows to and from the land. The birth of a dragon – especially with so few remaining in the world – creates noticeable waves of power."

"And those hunters from before, they have felt it?" Eragon asked cautiously. Icarus nodded in response.

"It is not a precise art, but a dragon is hard to hide. My best guess is you have about five, maybe six days before they find this place and burn it to the ground when they discover you gone."

"Well, what am I supposed to do with a dragon? I doubt it will learn endurance flight in the next five days." Icarus gave him a long, penetrating stare, as if he tried to peel back the layers of Eragon's soul and see what was within.

"The solution will present itself in due time. If I were to simply give it to you, I meddle with a future that does not yet exist. Fret not, Eragon. I shall answer a few of your questions. I suppose that with what lies in store for you – the only rider other than the evil king – I can do at least that much for you." Icarus strode forward, pulling with him the shadows around him, as if they were attached to him. He sat down on the bed next to Eragon and picked up the dragon, placing it in Eragon's lap once more. "You get three questions."

Eragon nodded slowly and thought hard for a few moments. "How do I know I can trust you?" He asked.

"Well, I saved your life and I have warned you against impending doom twice. What is more, I could literally yank your soul from your chest right now. The fact that I have not done so means that either I am plotting some really elaborate, painful scheme involving you, or I simply have your best interests and in turn my best interests in mind. Look into my eyes, Eragon. Tell me what you see."

Eragon did not need to look for very long. "They are the same color as mine were changed to."

"Indeed. That is because I imbued you with my power. It was the only way to save your life and in doing so I substantially weakened myself. Regardless of what consequences this will have for you in the future, it means that a part of me is now in you. In harming you, I would harm myself."

"If it is indeed true that, as you claim, you can halt the passage of time, why do you only appear to me?"

"As I said before, a part of me exists within you now, keeping your spirit inside your body. It is through that bond I can speak to you. Only to you." Icarus replied. They sat in silence as Eragon thought of a way to best formulate his last question.

"Do you… exist?" He finally asked.

"Obviously, otherwise you would have been dead. I know that is not what you meant to ask. Yes, I have walked this earth for eons, but that was a long time ago. Long before the elves sailed across the ocean and the dwarves made their home in the south. Since then my corporeal form has ceased. What remains of my bones now rests in the ground, far to the south. As you have probably guessed by now, though I may look human in appearance. That, however, is an illusion that only runs skin deep, for no human could exist as I currently do. Rest now, Eragon. Tomorrow will be a busy day for you."

Icarus was gone. Eragon only managed to sleep for a few more hours before the first rays of sun slipped over the horizon. He awoke to find the dragon – his dragon – curled around his head, quietly slumbering away. It squawked in surprise as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. After he finished washing himself he stared down at his hands. Having the unusual eyes was bad enough, but he couldn't very well walk around with a glowing hand. From the corner of his eye he saw his worn working gloves. It wasn't an ideal solution but it would have to make do.

After ensuring his dragon had enough to eat, he closed all the curtains and set out towards the village. It took the better part of an hour, but eventually Eragon found himself standing outside of the old story teller's house. Brom was a grumpy old man, generally inconsiderate of others. After Eragon had helped him stock wood for the winter several years back, however, Brom had started to take a shining to him. If anybody knew what to do, it would be him.

He knocked.

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If you enjoyed, please do not hesitate to review. It makes chapter two come all the faster. May peace live within your hearts.


	2. Chapter 2

Well, first of I would just like to say wow and thank you. This is the first time a first chapter has warranted 6 (!) reviews. I am honestly flattered. I always take the time to respond to my reviewers, so you can find little tidbits for you at the bottom of this chapter. Enjoy!

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"Who is it?" A deep voice boomed from the other side of the solid oak.

"Eragon." He replied, unconsciously pulling his cloak closer around him. He heard some shuffling and rummaging inside the house before the door finally opened. This would be the first time someone else would see his newly gained eyes. Brom had always been friendly towards him, al be it from a distance. Eragon knew he craved his approval. Brom would be surprised, that much was sure, but azure-violet eyes were unusual to say the least, unnatural to most. Carvahall was not a place for unusual business. Every day the sun rose in the east and set in the west and during that time, there was only the usual and the normal. As if having Icarus wasn't bad enough for him, he knew that when the dragon hatched, there would no longer be a place for him here.

Brom silently stared at Eragon for what must have been a full minute. Then he quickly scanned the shrubbery around his house. "Come in." He finally said, pulling Eragon with him by the shoulder. Behind him he slid the bolt lock back into place. With a large circle he walked around Eragon, inspecting him from all angles before sitting down in his chair by the fireplace. "Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair opposite him. After Eragon sat down, Brom asked: "so what is it I can do for you."

Eragon was a little dumbfounded. He had expected an inquisition, maybe outrage, but not the calm and collected question that had been given to him. "Lately I have been hearing some rumors from the townsfolk and I was wondering if uhm…" Eragon thought for a moment. "You could tell me again about the dragons."

Brom nodded sagely. "What would you like to know?"

"Well, they said dragons just came out of nowhere, but I was thinking, they have to be born. Nothing, not even dragons could just pop into existence."

Brom frowned. "I don't know which fool in this village believes dragons to just appear. Back when they were still plentiful, they would nest with each other and lay eggs."

"Like chicken eggs?"

"Oh heavens no. Dragon eggs were rumored to be beautiful beyond compare, like the rarest gemstones." There was a shine of recognition in Brom's eyes Eragon couldn't quite place.

"And they would just hatch? But then how did the riders come to be?" Eragon asked. Everyone knew the fabled story of the riders; the humans and elves who kept the peace and order atop their faithful draconic companions.

"Some would hatch by themselves, yes. Those were the wild dragons. According to legend they were fierce and majestic beyond compare. Other eggs would be enchanted by the riders, magically bound to hatch for a person of their choosing and bond with them." Eragon pondered this new information.

"But there must have been a first, right? Someone must have enchanted the first egg."

"You should ask an elf about it - if you ever have the fortune to cross paths with one that is. It was them who originally warred with the dragons, until one day an elf named Eragon, your namesake, found a young dragon whose mother had been slain. In secret he raised him, in turn becoming the first dragon rider. He, together with the dragons and the elves forged the magic that bound the two races together."

"Wow, I was named after the first rider?" Eragon asked, righting himself in his chair.

"It is a name that carries a lot of power. Do not tarnish it." Brom said to him in a stern voice. They sat together in silence for a while. "Eragon, either you can continue to pretend, or you can tell me what is going on."

"I don't know what you-"

"Don't play dumb. It would take a blind man not to notice the eyes."

Eragon was deliberating with himself. Should he confide in Brom? He doubted the old man had any ill intent, but then again…

Eventually he settled on an answer. "It is a long story." In response Brom merely quirked a grey eyebrow at him.

It was soft at first, but then they grew louder. Whispers in his ear. Then he heard Icarus. _"Trust him."_

Eragon sighed. He was already in deep trouble, telling Brom couldn't make it much worse. "Alright, I shall tell you, but I tell you now that you may not believe me."

"I have seen stranger things in my life than many a human."

Eragon gathered his wits about him before starting his story. "I was out hunting, like every year. I was tracking a young fawn and her mother. I was close upon them, about to make my kill. Then, something… happened." Brom silently nodded, urging him on.

"I don't remember much, but suddenly there was fire and flying rocks and chaos. I got caught- one of the branches speared me, right through the gut."

"You should be dead." Brom whispered.

Eragon nodded. "I died on that field, Brom. I felt the life ebb from me. But something came, it forced me back into my body." He interpreted Brom's silence as silent disproval. "I don't know what I have become, Brom. I rarely sleep anymore, I don't feel hunger, the dreams that I do have are filled with dragons and names of ancient places."

"What names."

Eragon was silent for a moment, trying to recall his dream. _"Ilirea."_ He whispered.

"That's impossible. You cannot have heard that name." Brom whispered to himself. "But I don't understand. Why come here, why come to me." Eragon uncomfortably shifted in his chair.

"When I returned, there were three men here. You must have seen them, Brom. Two in dark, long robes and one with hair of crimson."

"Yes, I have seen them, what of it?"

"They have come here to hunt me. Kill me. I know they will be coming for me – and do not ask me how for that is something I am not willing to share. Brom, I don't know what to do, where to go. You are wise, you know things. If anyone in Carvahall can help me, you can."

The crackling into the fireplace died down, until the flames remained eerily still. "You have done well. This was the most favorable next step to take." Eragon wasn't even going to be surprised anymore. Behind him, in the shadows as usual, stood Icarus, proud and tall. "Yet I find it curious. Why did you choose not to reveal my existence?"

"Brom would think me crazy. You keep talking like you know more. Tell me, have you seen the future?"

Icarus smiled. "True enough." He was silent for a moment. "The future is a fickle thing, Eragon. Many things have yet to shape it." Icarus said, neither confirming or denying Eragon's question.

"Why are you here, Icarus?" He said in a stark echo of Brom's earlier question.

"You can't leave behind your dragon. Perhaps you might wish to share that particular fact too – before it creates any unforeseen complications. Just take off your glove, the storyteller will understand." Icarus saw the restlessness in Eragon. "Hold fast, Eragon. I promise answers are coming soon." Then Icarus was gone.

He watched as the story teller appeared to be waging an eternal war of epic proportions. "Brom." Eragon said softly, catching his attention. Without much ceremony he pulled off his glove, revealing the silver mark. Something seemed to come to life in Brom. Then immediately his apparent elation seemed to transform into worry. Eragon watched as a wide range of emotions passed over the aged face, finally settling on determination.

"Tell me," Brom said, "exactly how that dragon egg came into your possession."

He was tempted to ask how it was Brom knew what that mark meant, but something told him his question would not be answered truthfully. Not now, at least. "It appeared out of nowhere in the middle of that fire."

"Eragon, I need you to run home as fast as you can and gather your bow and arrow. Meet me in the woods west of here; there is a clearing one hour's walk away. Do not worry about food, but bring any other travel provisions you might need. And your dragon of course" Eragon got up to leave. "And Eragon," he caught the old man's eye, "be careful".

The road home seemed longer than usual. Eragon wondered how long it would be before he returned. With those three strange men after him, he doubted Carvahall would know peace with him around. He could not do something like that to his friends. They were simple people, peaceful people. Those who lived in Carvahall had never wanted anything to do with the rest of the Empire. His predicament would not change that.

Closing the door of his home behind him, he quickly grabbed his bow from its shelf and strung it. He clasped his hunting cloak around him, trusting it would keep him warm for the journey to come. After swinging his bow over his shoulder, he slung his quiver over his shoulder as well. Before he could look for his dragon, it waddled into the room and used its claws to climb up his cloak. With some fluttering and squeaking it eventually settled on his shoulder. Careful not to knock it down again he strapped his travel pack containing his tent and bedroll to his back. Once Eragon was sure he had everything he needed he made way for the door. Glancing over his shoulder one last time, he left.

Brom was waiting where he promised he would be. When Eragon stepped through the shrubbery his eyes shot up, looking straight at him. His eyes, however, soon drifted to the creature on his shoulder. There was something in the storyteller's eyes. Something Eragon couldn't quite put his finger on. If he didn't know better, he would say it was recognition. "May I?" He asked, gesturing at the dragon.

Eragon felt the need to protect his dragon, but eventually his mind got the better of his heart. He nodded, carefully lifting the dragon from his shoulder and cradling it in his arms. Carefully Brom reached out to the blue creature in Eragon's arms. "She is beautiful." Brom said as he scratched a particular spot under the dragon's head that seemed to make it hum in satisfaction.

"Where will we be headed?" Eragon asked, placing the dragon back on his shoulder.

"South. Someone of importance is in great trouble."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I have lived a long life and met many people, Eragon. That egg wasn't put there through some divine miracle. For the longest time there were rumors that an egg had been taken by Galbatorix and if that is true, somebody must have been made responsible for it. Someone who saw no other choice than to send it miles away from his or her location."

"They were ambushed?" Guessed Eragon.

"Perhaps. In any case, we can be certain that whatever happened, it was not planned. I know somebody who could maybe tell us more. Last I heard he set up shop in Teirm and that's where we are headed. Have you said all the goodbyes you had to?"

"No, but I doubt saying them will do much good." Brom nodded, satisfied with his decision. "Then let us depart." They walked until the sun had made its way to the horizon, coloring the sky in hues of red and yellow.

"It is time to make camp. Do you think you can find us anything to eat?" Brom asked.

"I thought you said not to worry about provisions." Eragon replied.

"I know, now answer the question."

"I suppose I can try." Eragon said, taking the bow from his shoulder.

"Good, we need to stretch the provisions we have as long as we can." Brom replied. "I will set up a campfire." Eragon hesitated for a moment. Should he leave his dragon behind? It would not do much good on a hunt. Not yet at least. As if it read his thoughts it fluttered down from his shoulder and settled on the ground next to his pack.

Eragon was not going to argue with a matter resolved and instead nocked an arrow. As Eragon walked through the woods, it suddenly occurred to him that he was not alone. From the corner of his eye he saw shadows, at least twenty of them, trailing behind him but keeping their distance. Suddenly a woman was in front of him, tall and with rigid posture. Copper hair swayed in a nonexistent breeze and danced in front of her maroon eyes. Her perfect lips were ever so slightly parted revealing perfect white teeth. In her hands was a delicate bow of ornate design and three arrows. He quickly came to a standstill, wondering what she would want of him.

"It is time to embrace your gift, Eragon." His eyes darted to the right of the woman, where Icarus had appeared. "I believe it is time I share something about the nature of our bond." He stepped forward, dragging the shadows with him like a cloak. "I did not save you alone, Eragon. To bind your soul and body again, I had to use spirits. Much like when a shade is created. Do you remember the crimson haired man?" Eragon nodded.

Icarus was quiet for a moment, as if mourning a lost friend. "His name was Carsaib once, born of a nomadic tribe from the east. By chance he crossed paths with a sorcerer, who schooled him in the art of manipulating spirits. Spirits are wonderful creatures, Eragon, yet they don't fare well in captivity. Manipulating a spirit is one of the vilest deeds man can commit. His teacher was ambushed and murdered and when Carsaib summoned vengeful spirits as a manner of retribution, they turned on him. They are entrapped in his body now."

"But that would make me a shade also." Eragon realized with a start.

"That is dependent on how you define a shade. Look around you and tell me what you see." Eragon glanced around, noting the many robed figures, who silently stood between the trees. Their faces were hidden in the shadows cast by their hoods.

"Are they trapped in my body?" Eragon asked.

"No. When I enchanted you, I merely asked for their cooperation. Everyone you see here is present of their own volition. Wild spirits, like the ones that now live in Carsaib, are unbound souls. Free to do as they please separated from this world. However, when somebody dies, Eragon, their soul may choose to live on as a spirit, to wander this land for eternity, to observe, but never interfere. Those who choose to do so generally have strong ties to the land. They embody the purity of Alagaësia and are untouchable by vile magic like Carsaib's."

"But you can talk to them." Eragon stated, more as a fact than a question.

"Very few possess the ability, but indeed it is so, Eragon. When they realized what was at stake, twenty-seven of the _Arucane_ , the endless spirits of the land, agreed to save you. I forged their souls to yours – a procedure that can only succeed if the host's heart is pure. Unlike Carsaib, or Durza as he is now known, you do not have access to their power. Not yet at least." Icarus moved to stand behind Eragon and brought his hands to rest upon the young boy's shoulders.

"Wherever your journey may take you, Eragon, they will always travel with you. One by one they will come to you, as they are needed and they will offer you their power. All you will have to do is reach out and take hold of it."

"Why do I have the feeling it sounds a lot easier than it is actually going to be?"

"Because you are right. The others feel that it is too early to shoulder you with such a burden, Eragon, but I know that deep within your heart you have already realized this yourself. You are the last free and capable rider on the face of Alagaësia. You have the potential to bathe this earth in flames and forge it into something better or destroy it in the process. We are not here to force your hand, for all your decisions must be your own. Just know this. All the spirits that reside within you have come knowing full well that when you unlock their power, your soul will devour theirs. They are all prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice for you, to erase their very existence so that you may prolong yours. Do not squander their gift."

Eragon visibly swallowed in the face of such knowledge. "This is too much. How can I erase twenty seven being, who have no doubt all achieved greater things than I have in life?"

"Do not forget this was _their_ choice, Eragon. You are not forcing their hand. If anything, they forced _your_ hand. All they wish is to see you succeed so that their deeds will not be lost to the disease that now lives in this world." When Eragon was visibly starting to panic, Icarus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Take a moment, Eragon. I know this is a lot to take in."

After fifteen minutes Eragon had calmed down sufficiently. "Alright," he said, righting himself once more. "I can see her," he said, gesturing to the woman who had stood unmoving in front of them all this time, "why do the rest of them hide their faces?"

"They do so because you have no need of them yet. As I said before, they will reveal themselves in due time. The woman in front of you is Alisadne, the huntress of old, who single-handedly hunted the three Creatures of Saxidus. She has decided that, seeing as you primarily wield a bow, her skills have now become of vital importance to your survival. Alisadne is of the opinion that her skills had better be learned now. That way you will not have to worry about unlocking them when the need for them becomes evident." Eragon stared at her, wondering what he was supposed to do next.

"If you choose to accept her offer, she will offer you a challenge and, should you prove successful, you will unlock her part of your soul." Icarus continued.

"And how exactly should I go about this?"

"Go to her and find out." Icarus replied, a devilish smile on his face. Slowly Eragon approached her, shooting unnerved glances at the still smirking Icarus. When he got within arm's reach the woman suddenly lashed out, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him forward. Eragon stumbled into her embrace as her lips found his. The last thing he remembered was the taste of her lips, a slight cherry taste, before his vision went white.

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Once again I would like to thank all of you who reviewed, you are awesome. Now in the spirit of writer-reader interaction I have written a little something for all you wonderful people below. I will see you next chapter!

Diabolo88000 - I am glad you enjoyed the first chapter. Hopefully the second one was satisfactory as well!

dasbiest - I'm not just going to reveal major plot points like that! This chapter may have answered some of your questions, though. I hope you enjoyed it.

Maezan - Well, I must admit you immediately picked up on one of my weaker points of storytelling. I am _really_ bad at writing beginnings. Now you asked many questions, so for simplicity's sake I will put the answers in list-format.

1)You found out the answer in this chapter

2)No

3)You will find out in ten chapters or so

4)You will find out in ten chapters or so

5)You found out the answer in this chapter

I know, really unsatisfying answers ;), but hey, if I just unveiled the plot of this story, you would stop reading it and I like readers (especially those who review!) I am glad that you approve of the story overall though.

Dragon Junkie74 - I love you

orca3553 - I guess you found out in this chapter more or less what has become of Eragon... "Hold fast, answers are coming soon." ~Icarus. (Thank you for reviewing, though!)

Guest - I don't know who you are, but I will find you and I will hug you. As for finishing the whole cycle, I'm gonna try man!

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As always, thank you for reading and don't hesitate to pop in a review, follow, PM, whatever. I will take a moment of my time to thank you for it. See you guys in a few days!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello guys, I have come to you with another chapter in my mediocre installment! (personally I am not quite satisfied with it, but after two days of rewriting and re-evaluating I do not know what else to do anymore). Enjoy!

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" _My name is Alisadne of Nathran, hunter of the west and wielder of Rahna's Bow. This, Eragon, son of no one, is your task: hunt as I have before. Prove the purity of your soul and what was once mine shall be yours."_

Eragon woke up feeling blades of grass under his fingertips. He righted himself and opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. The sun was setting over the horizon. In the distance he saw a small cabin and instinctively he knew he had to go towards it. As he walked, a fine mist appeared next to him. It seemed random at first, but after several paces Alisadne's lush form appeared out of the silvery strands.

"Welcome to my nightmare." She softly whispered, barely loud enough for Eragon to understand her. "Every time I close my eyes, this is where I find myself. To succeed, you must resolve my memory." She silently walked next to him, her bow in hand. From her quiver she took three arrows and along with the bow, extended them to Eragon.

From the silvery mist they seemed to solidify into actual, solid wood. "Take them, for you will need them." With great care Eragon took the weapons from her. "Good luck, Eragon. Call me when I am needed." Eragon was about to question the cryptic nature of her remark, but the mist thinned until she was no longer there.

With the sun setting he knew he would have to make camp. The cabin, although empty and abandoned, seemed inviting enough for such a purpose. He approached and found the door slightly ajar. As he expected, nobody was within.

Eragon looked around the inside of the cabin and found the walls adorned by several portraits all in incredible detail. Without exception they appeared to be staring down at him, features twisted in a grotesque display of hatred and malice. Outside, the sun had set. It was too late to leave now. Realizing he was as good as trapped, Eragon tore some floorboards out and barricaded the door as best he could. Then he settled against the wall opposite the door, bow in his lap and after hours of restless tossing finally fell into a restless sleep.

He did not know for how long he had slept, but a loud noise above him quickly roused him from his slumber. It was still dark outside. There were light, yet sharp tapping noises all around him, as if a thousand tiny hammers were gently tapping the roofing. Then something heavy hit the door. The makeshift barricade he had erected groaned under the strain. Without hesitation Eragon stood, prepared an arrow and drew the bowstring back, ready to strike at whatever burst through that door.

Then, as soon as the noises had appeared, they were gone. He didn't sleep for the remainder of that night, ever wary for the return of whatever had come around last night. When the sun finally did rise he noticed something… eerie…

Where the portraits had been earlier, there were now only windows. The trees outside swayed in the wind as if nothing noteworthy had happened. Had he merely imagined last night? He couldn't have. Ever careful he removed the blockade and opened the door, opening it slightly. The fields outside were deserted. Not even a bird could be heard, which was somewhat worrying.

Fully opening the door he walked out, bow at the ready. The outside of the hut was covered in dents and scratches and smack in the middle of the door a patch of splintered wood. If he didn't know better he would say something tried to gnaw its way in. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the pinprick-like trail that disappeared into the woods behind the cabin.

Whatever this creature was, it moved fast, was large and heavy. Swift on his feet he followed the trail into the dark forest, for he knew that it was expected of him. At first the forest seemed fairly ordinary, save for the utter lack of wildlife. After several hours he found the first evidence of life. Or rather, what had once been life.

A ribcage, devoid of any flesh, poked out from between the dead leaves. The remainder of the bones where nowhere to be seen. He did not know what predator had gotten hold of the unfortunate victim, but it had possessed great strength to maul the body to such a degree. Carefully he pressed onwards, knowing full well that whatever lurked in these woods could and would kill.

And so he mapped out the woods, day after restless night. Every night the creatures would come pounding on his door, every morning there would be fresh prints leading into the woods. He found many more kills, most decayed to naught but bone, yet some more fresh. One day he found a victim, a young boy, with many holes drilled through its body, as if he had been riddled with arrows.

The blood had long since dried into a dark brown solid that caked his body from head to toe. His corpse was mangled to extreme lengths. Arms and legs were gone, eyes gouged out. It was that night he heard the first evidence, other than the tapping and banging noises, of the monster that lurked here. This time, after it had once again failed to break down the door, it released an otherworldly, bone chilling screech.

And it was answered.

Not once, but twice. The words of Icarus echoed in his mind

" _Alisadne, the huntress of old, who single-handedly hunted the three Creatures of Saxidus."_

Was that the dream he was reliving? How could he, a mere farmer who happened to use a bow every now and then hope to defeat the dangers of legend? Eragon knew he stood no chance of success.

The next day he noticed something unusual – that is, more unusual than the usual unusual. He knelt down next to the myriad of tracks that by now littered the short ways between his cabin and the woods. If Eragon had looked in a mirror, he would have seen the maroon haze that briefly passed through his eyes.

Something was off about the freshest tracks. The right imprints were deeper, as if the creature had been carrying something heavy. Had it scored a fresh kill elsewhere? Eragon got down on his knees, closely examining the trampled dirt. Sure enough there were traces of an ochre brown mixed with the black earth. Fresh blood.

Yes, he could clearly see it now. It led into the woods, even where the thick pack of dead leaves had prevented his track otherwise. He felt a small sense of victory. _He could find the monsters now!_ If they were raiding his camp by night, surely they must be sleeping by day. This was his chance!

It was a long and arduous task tracking the creatures deep down into the woods. The trail led him towards the distant mountain range where finally, tucked between two sheer rock faces, he found the entrance to a dark, evil-looking cave.

Had he been in control of his own body, he would have backed off. Yet Alisadne's memory seemed to take over and his feet slowly carried him into that dark hole. He felt something cold and hard clasp around his leg, causing him to lose his footing. To his great dismay, he was torn into the dark depths, his back scraping over the uneven, rocky ground. It was by sheer instinct he managed to hold on to his bow and three arrows.

After what seemed like ages the creature threw him into the air, tossing him further into the darkness. No light permeated this far down and deep down Eragon knew this was the end for him. There would be no fight, just him and an invisible foe who would tear him to shreds like the many corpses he had seen over the preceding days. Something hard and unforgiving collided with his face and pain was the last thing he knew before his world went dark.

" _Time to learn."_

It was Alisadne's voice to the left of him that pulled him from the darkness into a world so white it was nearly blinding. "You hold your bow like a frail old man." Eragon turned to face her. She stood in her regal pose, arms folded. After a few moments of silence she walked towards him. "Draw your bow." Eragon did as she asked, pulling the bow to full drawn and holding it.

"Look at your bow hand." She said, gesturing at his left hand. "You have it twisted; the whole weight of the bow rests on your thumb now. I knew you were self-taught, but I didn't think you were stupid." Eragon corrected his mistake and drew the bow again.

This time Alisadne lashed out without warning, giving his bow arm a rough punch. His elbow collapsed outwards under the draw weight of the bow, causing him to drop it. "Ouch." Eragon complained, rubbing his sore arm.

"Learning is a painful experience. Pick up your bow." When he reached down to grab it Alisadne none too gently stomped her boot down on his hand, pinning him down. "Never drop your arms in combat. You are not hunting a fawn, Eragon. You are protected in this dream, but out there you _will_ die. Now you will pick up your bow and no matter what happens, you will _not_ let go of it. Understood?"

She took the ensuing silence as confirmation and removed her heavy foot. When he struggled back to his feet Alisadne immediately sent him back down by sweeping his feet away from under his body. With a heavy thud he hit the floor. "At least you held on to your bow this time." She murmured.

"How exactly is this going to help me?" Eragon asked, almost out of breath.

Alisadne stared down at him, before sighing and lowering herself down next to him. "One cannot hope to walk without first having learned to crawl. Literally in your case." She remarked, glancing at his still downed form. "Do you know why I brought you here?" She asked. Eragon shook his head. "You were about to fail my trial." She stated, not being subtle about it.

"Oh."

"Yeah. You were doing so well. You learned how to track and how to scout the lay of the land. So tell me, what is it that has you struggling against your foe."

"It's pitch black in there, I cannot shoot what I cannot see."

"What, in essence, is the art of archery, Eragon?"

"To hit your target with an arrow."

"Precisely. How do you find your target?"

"Like I said before, I need to see them." Alisadne shook her head, smiling at his apparent ignorance.

"When you walk in the woods and a twig snaps behind you, do you need to turn around and look to see your target?"

"No."

"When you are sitting at home and you feel the breeze in your neck, do you need to face the door to know someone has entered?"

"No." Eragon said, slowly beginning to get the jist of what she was trying to teach him.

"When it's spring and the farmers fertilize their lands, do you need to see the field to know where it is?"

"No, I can smell it in the air." She swung herself over him, so she was straddling his smaller form. Normally such a position would be called arousing to say the least, but her wicked smile and murderous look took any eroticism out of the moment.

"Very good, Eragon. So _fight._ " And with that she was gone and he was back in the darkness of the cave. He closed his eyes, feeling the ground vibrate as the creatures moved around. One was to his left and the other two were… above him? Quickly he rolled to the side, feeling the wind pass by his cheek as something very sharp barely missed him.

He saw the barely visible presence of Alisadne in the darkness as it moved towards him. He felt a slight chill pass up his spine as she forced herself into his body. _"Move with me, Eragon."_ Putting one of the arrows into the bow, his feet moved of their own accord as he rolled sideways. The clicking noises reverberated around the cave as the creatures seemed to communicate.

Alisadne guided his hands as he shot two arrows in rapid succession, nailing two of the creatures. They screeched in pain and Eragon felt the winds stir as they thrashed around. The two caused sufficient distraction that he almost missed the third, who charged at him. Just too late he dodged to the side, receiving a painful nick on his shoulder in return. Turning around he nocked the last arrow and fired it after his assailant.

Eragon waited in silent prayer, hoping to hear the squelching sound that told him he hit. Just when he thought he missed, a third pained screech joined the first two. _"Congratulations."_

Alisadne moved from him, moving to stand next to him. _"See what you defeated."_ She said, raising a hand above her head. She summoned a bright light, bathing the cave in luminescence. Eragon nearly vomited as he saw the malformed monstrosities he had slain. If he had to describe them he would say they resembled millipedes. Except they had thick armor, pointed, venomous fangs and were the size of a small house each. _"Sometimes the eyes are what keep us from achieving our greatest deeds."_

The world around them slowly started to disintegrate until only Eragon and Alisadne remained. "I am afraid this is where we part ways, Eragon. Your soul is assimilating mine as we speak." She said, gesturing to the world tearing apart around them.

"I… thank you." Eragon said. Alisadne waved his words away.

"Please just listen, we don't have much time remaining. After all this, you probably still wonder why I kissed you when we first met and I will tell you why. The world is a harsh place, Eragon. Be it men or women, everyone is drawn to power, grace and wealth. I became the legend of my time and as such I never got the chance to give my heart to someone worthy. You _must_ make sure it is not so for you as well. Nobody deserves to live out their days in loneliness. I wished to have shared at the very least my first kiss before I depart from this world." She smiled at him as her physical form started to lose coherence. "May your arrows always fly true and may your name prosper into eternity. I know you are destined for greatness."

"Wait." But he was back in the forest, surrounded by the robed figures and Icarus.

"Welcome back." Icarus said.

"Have you been waiting for me all this time?" Eragon asked, somewhat perplexed.

"We have waited the entirety of one count for you, yes. Remember, Eragon. In here there is no time." He didn't know why, but the words made him feel hollow, like the last six days he lived held little to no meaning. As if Allisadne's sacrifice was nothing to be remembered or honored.

"I see we have pressed you hard. In that case, this is where we will leave you, Eragon. Go now, use your new-found skills and rest. The world will still be here tomorrow." Icarus said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder before lifting his spell and disappearing along with the robed figures.

His bow felt strange in his hands. He had grown used to the engraved, skillfully crafted bow and straight arrows Allisadne had gifted to him. Eragon realized that the only way to truly commemorate his teacher was to put her lessons to use. As such he stood motionless, taking in his surroundings to their fullest.

Mimicking Allisadne's movements, he fired three arrows into a tree to his left in rapid succession, pleased when three large birds dropped down with arrows embedded in their bodies. Quietly he collected his kills, put the arrows back in his quiver and made his way back to camp.

Silently he dropped the three dead animals at Brom's feet. "Back so soon?" He asked, a little surprised.

"Just because I was the _only_ hunter in Carvahall, doesn't mean I was a _bad_ hunter." Eragon replied, picking up one of the birds and stripping it of feathers. They ate their meal in silence before settling into their bedrolls. Hopefully tomorrow would be _less_ eventfull.

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Hello guys, just as a quick AN, I want to stress that despite Eragon's new found power, he will not become a broken, god-like character. Drawbacks to his current... condition... will reveal themselves shortly, I promise!

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And as usual a little appreciation for my reviewers!

orca3553 - yup, she really does!

dasbiest - I am glad chapter two was also to your liking. I am not so happy with this one, but we will see what people think.

xXxGhostRiderxXx - Trust me when I tell you Eragon will be powerfull in his own right, but not overpowered. In a few chapters you along with all the other readers will discover what a debilitating effect Icarus's magic has actually had on Eragon. A protagonist without a challenge makes for a _really_ dull story.

Maezan - You are, of course, correct. I guess that is what I deserve for writing without a proof reader! The offending mistake has been resolved, hopefully making it clearer for future readers what the hell is happening. I am glad you approve of the way I am unfolding this story, hopefully many more satisfactory chapters will follow.

TheRiderWriter - Although Eragon will be recieving _some_ degree of power from the spirits (otherwise there would not really be a plot-point to having them), I do not plan on making a god-like Eragon who straight up 1v1-me-scrub's that Galbatorix-bitch to show who is his daddy. In that regard I fear you will find this chapter to not be to your liking very much, but I promise that very few spirits in the future will offer power-spikes like Allisadne did. Furthermore I would like to stress the same point i made to xXxGhostRiderxXx, that to compensate for Eragon's new-found power, he will be fighting a number of serious handicaps yet-to-be-revealed. Cheers!

Jay - I am happy to have found another interested reader in you! It is really great to have people like you come in and review, it helps me to keep going. As for my opinion on ExA, I will fucking bury you in it. Paolini did _way_ too little with them in my opinion and it's a mistake I intend to rectify tenfold.

D4ni3l - Damn, Daniel, back at it again with the white vans! (Sorry couldn't resist!) I hope you liked this chapter as much, if not more, than the last one.

Mad Hatter - All I'm gonna say is that you are thinking along the right lines. All might seem like sunshine and roses right now, but I promise that will change very soon. Eragon is about to discover some drawbacks to his new power.

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Alright, that will be all for today folks! Don't forget to leave a review if you made it this far and are not yet disgusted by my very presence! Cheers.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello everyone!

First off, yes, I know this chapter is 1) later than promised 2) shorter than usual. Turns out that endurance writing is still a little hard on my right pinky. Furthermore, I was clumsy enough to now slice off two fingertips of my LEFT hand, so eventually I just kinda gave up and pushed through the pain. For you. Yes. You. So please do enjoy this chapter, It's a bit of a filler for the action to come next chapter. As usual, all the reviewers will find a little something at the bottom. Enjoy!

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Eragon twisted and turned in his bedroll for hours, unable to find the peace of sleep. Eventually he just gave up and got up. Careful not to disturb Brom and the dragon that had nestled between their two bedrolls he moved some distance away from their camp site. He found a large stone, nestled between the trees and positioned in such a way it gave a breathtaking view of the moonlit forest ahead.

Far behind him he knew the villagers of Carvahall slept quietly. Strangely enough he found his thoughts wandering to his cousin, Roran. Eragon wondered what had become of him, never having heard from him since he cut ties with his birth home over six years ago. A slight smile played over Eragon's face. Roran was never going to believe what had happened to him in such a short span of time. Then again, for all he knew, stranger things yet might have happened to his cousin. Even though Roran had more or less abandoned him, Eragon never could find it within his heart to truly hate or blame Roran for the things he had done.

He heard the slight rustle of leaves behind him, knew Brom was standing there before he even spoke. He had Alisadne to thank for that, probably. "Can't sleep?" The old story teller asked. Eragon shook his head in reply.

"A side effect ever since what... happened... to me." He clarified. "Sleep rarely finds me now."

"What has been the matter with you today. I send you into the woods to hunt a few rabbits and since your return you have seemed a little... off."

"Do you think we can ever truly die? Be erased from this world without a trace?"

Brom was silent. "No, I choose to believe that we will be reunited with those lost to us." He eventually said. For a moment there was something heavy in Brom's words. A forgotten memory so terrible, yet so wonderful, but Eragon chose not to press. "But enough of such ponderings. If you are not going to rest we may as well make good use of our time. Seeing as you are destined to be a dragon rider, I think it is only proper we teach you how to wield a blade."

"You know how to use a sword?" Eragon said hesitantly, eyeing Brom's withered form.

"Come down from that rock and find out."

With a huff Eragon got up and nimbly climbed down from his vantage point. Brom reached down and picked up two sticks from the ground. He swung each experimentally to make sure it was strong enough and held one out to him. Eragon took it, taking a few strides back.

The moonlight bathed them in a gentle white glow, just enough to see. "So how do we do this?" Eragon asked. "Do we just count down and-" Between one breath and the next Brom had him disarmed and rubbing his wrists where he had hit them hard with his stick.

"Terrible. Pick that up again." He said, motioning to the stick. Half heartedly Eragon wondered if Brom was going to trample his hands like Alisadne had done when he'd dropped her bow. Fortune smiled upon him however as Brom merely stood by silently, waiting for him to get ready. Eragon was quickly beginning to reconsider his views of the old man. Perhaps Brom did have a few spare tricks and secrets up his sleeve.

"Clearly you are better at this than I am." He said. "At least allow me a little advantage." Eragon pleaded. He swore there was a twinkle of amusement in Brom's eyes.

"You would seek to further disadvantage a frail, old man? Very well, what did you have in mind?" He asked, clearly having chosen to humour Eragon.

Azure and blue eyes darted around, looking for something, anything to give him an advantage. His eyes fell on another stick. He went to pick it up and resumed his stance in front of Brom.

"I think you will quickly come to reconsider that decision." Brom said, smiling outright by now. He did nothing short of proving himself right, literally bashing Eragon into submission over and over. Each time he gave a few small pointers, yet Eragon knew he was only progressing at a snail's pace. After hours Brom finally wished him goodnight and returned back to the campsite.

Although physically exhausted, Eragon still did not feel tired. Not really knowing what else to do he resumed his former watch on the rock. He sat until the moon had almost passed overhead. Then he felt something warm press against his arm. Eragon glanced sideways to see his dragon, by now the size of a small dog, attempting to struggle its way into his lap.

It was truly amazing how fast the dragon seemed to grow. It was as if with every passing day it grew at least one hand in length. The blue scales lit up brightly in the moonlight, refracting the light in beautiful iridescent patterns. "Questionable choice, Eragon." From the corner of his eye he saw Icarus's characteristic form, the shadows lurking around him like a fine mist.

"What are you talking about?"

"To wield two swords in battle, it is suicide. If you find yourself in the heat of combat and you are surrounded, how will you defend yourself? Surely you do not hope to rely on killing them before they kill you."

"Swords are light. It would be possible to evade their blows."

Icarus glanced at him, a frown on his face. "Because you have never actually held a real sword before I will forgive that transgression. That kindling may be light," he said, gesturing to the discarded and dented sticks, "but a real sword of metal and steel is almost as heavy as a shield. Even the elves with their superhuman strength do not chance the danger. You are too overburdened to fight with the nimbleness of a single blade and you lack the protection of a shield."

"Surely it must be possible, are you forbidding me from training with two swords?" Eragon asked.

"Oh no, not at all. I'm just trying to tell you that it's a bad choice." Icarus was silent for a moment, staring quietly ahead of him. "Let me tell you a story, Eragon. Even in my time, when the world was filled with legends and mythical creatures, there was war and I have seen my fair share of battlefields. I knew a young warrior, much like you. Granted, he had trained under me for many more years than you can hope to imagine, but I think you two would have like each other. He once told me the same thing, that it would be possible to fight as you desire to do now." Icarus's face darkened.

"He fared decently well in his endeavours, until we came face to face with the evil that ruled in our time."

"What happened?"

"He was disarmed in seconds and had his throat ripped out; bled out before I was able to save him." Icarus replied nonchalantly. "Do you know why he died, Eragon?" It was a rhetorical question, but Eragon shook his head in good form. "He misplaced his right sword a fraction to the left in his opening stance. That was all it took." Eragon glanced his was with a disbelieving look.

"If you want to fight and live with two blades in hand, your form _must_ be flawless. It will matter fairly little against most opponents you meet – they simply treat their swords as fancy clubs. But if you continue down this path I fear what will happen when you face someone stronger than you. More skilled than you." Icarus's words were unspoken, but just as clear. What would happen when he faced the likes of Durza? "Just think about it, Eragon."

"Just think about it." He said, before disappearing into thin air, leaving Eragon alone with his dragon and his thoughts. The two sat together in companionable silence until Brom came to fetch them for breakfast.

Later in the afternoon they came across Therinsford. Although larger than Carvahall, it was still not more than a farming community. Taking Brom's advice to heart he kept his cloak pulled tightly around him and his face hidden. They did not want to rouse suspicion by flashing Eragon's unusual eyes. Brom entrusted several coins to Eragon and told him to find some food. When Eragon asked what Brom was going to do in the meantime, all he received was a vague answer.

Silently swearing about being kept in the dark he set out for the market. Not bothering with bargaining too much he bought some cured meats and fruits – they would last much longer than perishable wares. When he returned to Brom, he found that the story teller had managed to find them honest to god horses. "One day you must tell me all your secrets Brom." He murmured, dropping the food in a pile on the ground.

"One day, perhaps, but not right now. Let's get saddled. We can reach Yazuac by tomorrow night if we are lucky. From there on out it should be much easier to travel south." Of course as their luck would have it it rained that night. Perhaps 'storm' might have been a better description. Everything was soaked. The horses were soaked, their riders were soaked, the food was soaked and what was worse, any potential firewood was also soaked.

The story teller had just disposed of the now spoiled food before making his way over to Eragon. "Go take care of the horses, I will build us a fire." Brom instructed, after Eragon failed for the fifth time to light the damp kindling. With difficulty Eragon unwrapped his numb fingers from the flint, wincing in pain as he did. As Brom hunched over the fire he thought he heard him murmur something along the lines of 'brisingr'. It came out like a swearword and perhaps it was in some long forgotten language.

Eragon, however, was too worn out to complain about the fire that crackled to life soon after. Without much ceremony he unstrapped the saddles and tied the horses to a tree with plenty of leeway so they could move virtually freely. When he returned to the fire Brom was waiting there once more, sticks in hand. "Gather yourself Eragon. We are not done yet for today." He said, throwing him one. Eragon reached down and gathered a second, preparing himself.

Icarus could go stick it. If this is how he wanted to fight, this would be the way. _His_ way. His new found resolve did not last very long under Brom's punishing regime of kicks and blows. This time, when Brom finally saw it fit to release him, sleep did find him.

He was back on that open field. The green pastures ahead of him flowed into dense forest. Nestled in the treeline was that wooden cottage he had come to love and hate during his time with Alisadne. The familiar weight of her bow rested in his right hand and a single arrow in his left. He moved forwards, making way for the cottage.

"Hello Eragon, come to see what you destroyed?" He whirled around to face the female voice. Alisadne stood there in all her naked glory. Considering her modesty Eragon averted his gaze. "Pathetic. Can't even look at a woman without blushing." He felt a dizzying darkness come over him. He closed his eyes, trying to shield himself from the swirling abyss his dream created.

When Eragon opened his eyes again he was no longer in the field, but in that dark cave where Alisadne's quest had eventually led him. Something roared out in the darkness. Instinctively he shot the arrow, hearing the weapon strike home with a squelching noise. The roaring receded to a whimpering plea as a puddle of blood started to form around his feet.

Following the trail through the darkness he saw not the monsters from Alisadne's vision, but his very own dragon, arrow embedded in its chest. It stared at him with a look of betrayal. "Are you proud of what you have done Eragon?"

" _Are you proud of what you are?"_

With a start Eragon sat up in his bedroll, trying to steady his rapid breathing. Groaning he fell back down in his bedroll. It had merely been a nightmare. The remnants of their fire smouldered next to him, bathing their campsite in a gentle glow. It starkly contrasted with the darkness from which he had just emerged. Above him, the moon floated ever so gently through the everlasting darkness of the night sky. He felt something heavy settle on top of him. It was his dragon, as if having sensed his distress.

Gently he reached out to it and lazily scratched the underside of its throat. He knew he was doing something right when he heard the faint humming that emerged from the blue creature and made a mental note to remember that particular spot. He knew sleep would not find him again tonight.

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Cat Beats - No worries. As I have stressed beforehand, no OP demi-god Eragon for you, kind sir. As for Icarus, you will find out who and what he is. Not grey folk, though. Also not somebody who is going to run around the battlefield winning everything for Eragon with his super-sayan powers. I am glad that besides the worrying you approve of the story in general. Hopefully you will keep finding it to your satisfaction.

MadHatter - It will get even more complicated than that, my friend! The time and trial Eragon will have to face each time a spirit decides to offer himself will be a little arbitrary (and dependent on what they have to teach). I am litterally making this shit up as I go, so hang in there with me. As always I do appreciate the continued reviewing and godspeed!

Rasmusemees - If you have not found one, I would suggest going for Reversed Life by Rainxoxo. Althoug not exactly god-like, Eragon is POWERFUL in that fiction. And stays that way throughout I might add. Then again, Eragon would not have to be god-like just to be unstoppable, now would he ;).

Zeus795 - Don't worry bro, as soon as it heals I will hurt some other body part.

Ky111 - I am happy to hear you have been enjoying my work. As I mentioned at the very beginning, finger-health is not quite where it should be, but I will continue to make chapters out of my tears for you!

Maezan - So do I man, So do I. Thank you for the continued support, though!

Vizual-Era - Your words are too flattering. I merely channel the brilliance of those around me into words. Personally I find that having a character be powerful for no reason (and thus having no catharsis to strive for) makes for really dull story telling. Not to mention it becomes really hard to write. Stories like these kind of generate their own content in my head, allowing me to update somewhat frequently (presuming my hands work that is). I am not quite certain what I will do yet for the ExA, although it will be around in large quantities. Maybe you can help me out. All you have to do is answer this one question: is Faolin alive?

Brobe Kyant - I appreciate the words of kindness! To be honest it was an idea I have been playing around with for YEARS. Then, somewhere, I just decided to start writing and see what came of it. Things have been going great so far, thanks to all you wonderful reviewers! As for your second question, Roran will definitely be making an appearance. I am not creating this veil of mystery around his whereabouts to deny my readers afterwards!

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That will be all for tonight. Next update will most likely be Wednesday night, so be on the lookout for that. Peace!


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone!

Here is the next chapter in this installment. A quick shout out to all the readers out there. No matter where you are from, how old you are or why you are here, you are amazing. Reviewers will find something at the bottom as always. Now, enjoy!

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According to the pendant around her neck, the girl's name was Nessa. Eragon wondered why her parents had given her such an old-fashioned name. Then again, maybe the girl had liked it. He would never know, because her throat had been torn out. An eerily similar fate had befallen all the other villagers of Yazuac. He had never seen a corpse before, had expected the effect to be more… striking. Yet as he walked through the bloody streets he did so with near mechanical precision. "We need to look for clues, find out what killed them. Whatever it was, it could be coming after us next." Brom said, glancing around warily.

Eragon nodded in agreement, tying the unnerved horses to a tree. His dragon dutifully trotted next to him as they walked further into the town square. There was blood, so much blood. The stench of rot was sickening. "Such a waste."

Icarus sat hunched down, his fingers trailing absentmindedly through a shallow pool of blood. He raised his hand, rubbing his fingers together, making the blood dry and flake off. "It is always saddening to see how violence reaches the innocent first." The darkness around him was even more visible when Icarus stood in full daylight.

"Why does this bother me less than it should?" Eragon asked, looking at the carnage in front of him.

"Oh it shocks _you_ very much." Icarus said, rising to his feet. "Or at least, it would have under normal circumstances. I'm afraid the level-headedness with which you can face these kinds of scenes may be my doing; an inevitable side-effect of your creation."

"Please do explain."

"When I merged myself into your body, your soul was inevitably altered, changed by my views of the world. This is but a mild image compared to the horrors I have seen in my time. What you experience is the average emotion felt by the twenty-nine souls inside that body of yours. That is, you, me and the twenty-seven spirits."

Something fragile inside Eragon broke at that very moment. It bothered him, knowing that whatever he felt, whatever he experienced, they would likely not be his own feelings. Rather, they would be projections of somebody else's life imprinted on him.

"Do you no longer feel horror?" Eragon asked absentmindedly, trying to change the subject in an attempt to divert him from that information.

Icarus was silent for a moment. "Too little. It's a symptom of age. You would do well not to detach yourself from such bloodshed as I did. If not in heart, then in mind. It is a bridge I myself wished I had never crossed. Now it is too late for me." He let that knowledge hang in the air for a bit before turning to face Eragon fully. "But it's not too late for you." He added, pacing around Eragon.

Icarus continued his monologue. "Fear is the strongest weapon if your only focus is to win. Horror has no face, yet you must make a friend of it. Horror and mortal terror. You need men who are moral and at the same time are able to utilize their primordial instincts to kill without feeling, without passion. The method is flawless, efficient. Yet with every victory, your cause becomes just a little more hollow. If you want your deeds to be passed on through the ages, victory must not come from the mind, but from the heart."

"You sound as if you are talking from firsthand experience."

"If I poses the power to revive you eons upon _eons_ after my death, imagine how magnificent I used to be in my time of life." There was something dark and slightly rotten behind those words. It gave Eragon shivers. Suddenly he didn't trust Icarus so much anymore. "In any case, it's time to put Alisadne's teachings into practice. Good luck."

"Wait what?" But Icarus was already gone.

"Urgals!" Brom shouted from behind. The ground under his feet shook as several horned abominations came sailing around the corner, armed to the teeth. One, slightly bigger than the rest and no doubt in charge, was swinging a menacing club around. Without taking his eyes off the Urgal he reached for his bow and absentmindedly knocked an arrow into place. With his mouth slightly agape in awe he loosed the arrow, striking the Urgal square in the face, sending him down.

Unfortunately it seemed to enrage the others rather than demoralize them. "Run Eragon!" Brom took him by the arm and pulled him along. Eragon's feet started moving before his body was consciously telling them to, breaking into a full sprint next to Brom. From the corner of his eyes he saw his dragon clamber its way up a building, fleeing to the relative safety of the rooftops. Good.

"Any bright plans?" Eragon asked, not daring to glance over his shoulder.

"You go right, I go left!" Brom replied. Eragon didn't have time to argue, for they had reached the end of the road. All the muscles in his body complained as he forced himself around the corner without losing any speed. Chancing a few seconds he briefly turned to fire three arrows at his assailants. One of the seven beasts behind him was hit in the shoulder – not a disabling hit – and the other two bounced off the large wooden shields most of them were carrying.

Up ahead he saw the town barracks, dead soldiers strewn around it. Their armor was dented and their limbs were bent in all manners of unnatural ways. Knowing his bow was all but useless against these foes he dropped it and exchanged it for one of the many swords lying around. The first of the Urgals reached him, swinging his large spiked weapon overhead. Eragon rolled to the side, taking the opportunity to slice open the flesh around the Urgal's ankle. It earned him an enraged scream.

He had to dodge several more pairs of stomping feet before he was finally in the clear again. At his feet lay another sword, virtually identical to the one he currently held. "Eragon, don't!" an apparition of Icarus, eerily see-through like mist called out to him. It was already too late. He turned and held the two heavy weapons above him to bear the brunt of the next Urgal's assault. He was barely able to hold up under the powerful swing of his much larger opponent. He immediately realized Icarus had been right. The second sword added so much weight he was effectively unable to retaliate. The only chance he had was to strike first and make it count. With two swords, there were no second chances.

Something sharp tore through his left hip, making him hiss out in pain. The others roared out in jeering taunt. Knowing that he was outclassed and without hope of victory, he quickly put some distance between him and the Urgal. Eragon pointed his two swords parallel towards the group of Urgals before resorting to his one last hope.

"Eragon, don't do it!" Icarus shouted from the shadows.

With a brilliant roar of fury Eragon yelled " _Brisingr!"_ The last thing he felt was a pain like no other soaring through him before the world went black.

"That was very stupid of you." It was Icarus who spoke to him. Trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice, he looked around him. All he saw was darkness. Not the 'dead of night' kind of darkness. There was simply nothing, as if his eyes were gone. Eragon was beginning to panic and reached for his face. Something strong pressed him down, pinning his arms to the ground.

"Please don't, you are only going to make it worse."

"My eyes-"

"Your eyes are currently being put back together piece by piece because you blew them out of their sockets with that little stunt of yours. Now let the magic do its work and remain silent." The silence that ensued was deafening. "I also feel that this is the moment to tell you 'I told you so'. It was suicidal to pick up that second sword. Without it, I might have even given you a slim chance of victory." Slowly his vision went from nothingness to darkness to red. Eventually he was able to see Icarus's stoic form hunched over him.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Eragon murmured.

"I'm afraid this is as much as I can do for you right now. The damage you caused is too extensive to heal in a single go. You are going to have to suffer through the pain. Fitting, actually. It should remind you _never_ to use magic of any kind."

"I used magic?" Eragon asked in bewilderment.

"Judging from your current condition, I would rather state the magic used you, but yes. I am sure that if you ask about it, Brom will educate you further on the subject. I cannot hold the pain at bay for much longer, so stop asking questions. What I need to tell you is very important and must be done without delay. I had actually hoped to put this off for as long as possible. However, since you discovered this power on your own, I no longer have the luxury of time with you." Icarus pulled him into a sitting position. Standing in front of Eragon he continued.

"'Using magic', as you so eloquently put it, is in essence harnessing the energy of the land and channeling it through your body into the world. In doing so, you may shape it and enact your will upon something of your choosing. The vessel that must hold this power in the interim is your spirit."

Eragon had an inkling of what Icarus was trying to tell him. "But I have twenty-nine spirits inside my body." He said.

"Exactly. I will not go into the finer details of the fabric of souls, but for all intents and purposes, they act like a mirror."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that when your spirit tries to release the energy it gathered into the world, the other spirits in your body reflect it straight back at you. _Brisingr_ means fire. Because you are rather unskilled at magic, you did not properly control the flow of power. If your spirit holds too much energy, it is consumed by it, killing you in the process. That, however, is a lesson for another time. In any case, you tried to blow a large amount of fire into the world and had it reflected back at you."

"That does not sound very healthy."

"Your body is charred and covered in blisters." Icarus offered in reply. "I managed to heal your eyes and your feet. The powers I bestowed upon you grant _some_ regenerative abilities, but you will be in pain for at least a week, if not more. You must _never_ resort to magic, Eragon. It will always, without fail, backfire on you. Why do you think other shades like Durza use a form of black sorcery over magic of the regular kind?"

"There is a difference?"

"Oh yes, very much so. Ask me about it later. Oh, and you might want this." Icarus said, handing Eragon a solid piece of wood. When Eragon raised a brow in question he added "to bite down on." And then he was gone.

For a few seconds the world was in perfect clarity and then the pain set in. Eragon was somehow glad for the piece of wood in his hands and quickly stuffed it between his jaws as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks. The saline fluid burned in the wounds, deepening his own personal hell even further. He wasn't able to silence the disgruntled cry of anguish and his rib cage burned as it contracted.

Through the haze he saw the completely destroyed bodies of the Urgals. If he had thought his condition was bad, it didn't begin to compare to the absolute devastation inflicted on his former enemies. Most of the bodies had partly or completely disintegrated, their molten skin still smoldering. All the building around him were coated in black residue and the destroyed tree he was leaning against was also charred and smoldering. Offhandedly he noticed that somewhere during the whole ordeal he had blown apart most of his clothing as well. Only a few charred straps remained around him.

It was his dragon he saw first, fluttering with its wings to propel itself forward faster. It stopped just shy of him. Eragon was thankful for that. Had the sapphire being crashed into him he would have no doubt passed out again from the pain. Instead it hesitantly licked around the edges of an especially large blister on his upper right arm. The sensation was oddly soothing and was not accompanied by the pain Eragon had expected.

Brom was not far behind, the horses in tow. "My god Eragon. What did you do?" He made to reach out for him, but stopped just shy of his shoulder. Probably because he realized it would cause Eragon excruciating pain. "Do you think you can get on your feet?" Remembering Icarus's words he nodded. Exactly how he managed to stand up he didn't know, all he would remember later is that it involved a great deal of agony.

"We need to find you something to wear." Brom said, glancing around him.

"I thought you would be more curious what happened." Eragon remarked.

"Oh I am very curious, but first we need to get out of this place and somewhere safer." He said. Unfortunately the best clothing they were able to find was scavenged from a dead peasant. The cloth was drenched with blood, but whole. Brom washed the worst of it out at the village well and handed the wet cotton to Eragon.

It reeked of death.

" _Put it on. Disease is no longer your enemy and the water will soothe your pain."_ Icarus's voice resounded in his head. Hesitantly he pulled the tunic on, shuddering as his nose came across a particularly strong patch of smelly fabric.

Later, when they were seated around a new campfire a few leagues south of Yazuac Brom took his chance. "Care telling me what happened back at the town now?" He asked. The question sounded conversational, trivial even, but Eragon knew very well this was a decisive moment in their relationship. He fidgeted about for a moment, uncertain what to do next. Halfheartedly he hoped Icarus would show up to tell him, but no such thing happened.

"Brom," Eragon waged an internal war looking for the right words. "When I told you what happened, I did not tell you… _everything_. I realize that what I am about to tell you sounds insane, but you must believe me."

"You released an explosion so large it shook the whole town and made an entire clan of Urgals flee, not to mention you killed seven of them in the progress. I'm willing to buy a lot right now." The story teller replied.

"When I was… rescued… a spirit of old bound himself along with several other spirits to my own." Brom was silent for a moment.

"Eragon, that's not possible. If that were true you would be a shade, unable to control your rage. In the previous week you have stricken me as nothing but sane. Weird maybe, but sane nonetheless."

"According to the old spirit, that would indeed be true if the spirits had been wild, untamed spirits. He, however, somehow managed to control the souls of the dead."

"This older spirit speaks to you?" Brom asked sharply.

"His name is Icarus." Eragon offered in confirmation.

"What does he look like?" Brom pressed.

Eragon thought for a moment, trying to recall all the little details. "Well, he's also got the eyes," he said, gesturing to his own azure and purple, "tends to stick to the shadows a lot. Nothing that would make him otherwise stand out, but when he moves, it's like the shadows move with him."

Brom was clearly lost in thought, shifting through thousands of memories. "I do not remember anything or anyone who goes by that name or description." He said eventually. "Does he seek to harm you?"

"Not really. So far he has been acting more like a guide. It tends to be him who chooses when and where we meet, though." Eragon said, poking the fire with a stick. It was an act he immediately regretted as pain flared through his burnt hand.

"And these dead souls he bound to you?"

"I do not yet know who most of them are. According to Icarus, they all have something to teach me when they deem me ready. When I unlock their power they merge with my soul, destroying themselves in the process. The only one I met so far was Alisadne."

"Alisdane, hunter of the west and wielder-"

"Of Rahna's bow." Eragon finished. "How did you know?"

"Because there are plenty of tales about her. She also used to be a dragon rider, like you are now. Her most memorable deeds, however, originate from before her time as a rider."

"I know, she made me hunt her biggest trophies to prove my value." Eragon said, scowling.

"When did she do that?" Brom asked, genuinely curious.

"The 'when' tends to be a little vague. Icarus has this annoying habit of stopping time whenever he appears. That night you sent me to go hunt I spent eight days inside her memory."

"No wonder you seemed so far off that night." Brom said, comprehension dawning on his face. Eragon nodded. "But would you now care to tell me how you ended up frying yourself and taking seven Urgals with you?"

Eragons otherworldly eyes met Brom's brown ones. "Last night I heard you say ' _brisingr'_ and immediately saw the fire light up. At first I thought nothing of it, but when I found myself cornered in Yazuac, it somehow instinctively came to me. Icarus later explained to me that it was a word of magic that I had accidentally triggered. Whatever Icarus did to me when he saved me, it apparently acts like a magical mirror. The entirety of the spell was turned inwards, resulting in… well… you know." Eragon said, gesturing to his broken body. "He remarked that that's why shades use sorceries instead of magic."

"Fascinating." Brom said in contemplation, trying to absorb all the information. "It is indeed true that _brisingr_ incites magic if you will it to. It is part of the native language of the elves and we call it the ancient language. Long ago an age old civilization known as the grey folk managed to intertwine the free magic of Alagaësia with it, in turn giving us a means to better control it."

"I don't understand." Eragon said, confusion clear on his face.

"Think of it like this," Brom said. "If you wanted to light a door on fire, but you were looking at me and your thoughts strayed from that door to me, you would be lighting me on fire instead. With the introduction of the ancient language, however, I could say 'burn that door' while in deep conversation with you and still only light the door on fire."

"But how come you can use magic?" Eragon asked. There was that shadow of darkness again as it passed over Brom's face. An ancient memory of terrible pain.

"I have a slight aptitude towards it. Nothing as strong as what the riders were rumored to accomplish."

"Well, other riders maybe. I wasn't planning on using magic any time soon again." He said, trying to right himself a little more but only hurting himself in the progress.

"Nevertheless, you will likely run into elves sooner or later and the language has several other useful applications. It's also useful to understand the spell an enemy caster is throwing at you as to better protect yourself from it." Eragon nodded in agreement. "Since you are not going to do any sword fighting in your current condition, there is no time like the present to get you started I suppose."

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thedemonkid - I can tell English is not your first language and just want to tell you that I admire your efforts. As somebody who mastered seven languages I know how hard it can be in the beginning. Keep it up! Furthermore thank you for the kind words and I will push through the pain any day for my wonderful reviewers!

ThantosOG - It is good to hear the story meets with your approval. I hope that many more chapters in the future will as well.

Ky111 - Well, if last chapter did not cover the downsides, this one sure as hell did xs. I have a plan for Eragon's weapons (plural, yes, spoilers) that shall be implemented... next chapter I think. In any case I appreciate the review and hope to see you for many more chapters to come!

booklover1798 - When I write it's like Sanic. Gotta go fast! Need to keep the quality of my work in mind too, though ^^.

Cat Beats - Well, the fingers have kind of healed up again (or at least grown numb to the point where it's only slightly irritating to write now). As I told Ky111, I do have something in mind for Eragon. Right now I think all your questions concerning swords will be answered next chapter. It's not going to be what you are expecting, but I do hope that it will meet with your approval.

Masteristien - If you managed to brave the first chapter, it only gets better I hope. I probably will have to go back there and rewrite it when I'm done with this story though xs.

Mad hatter - Yeah, you see, that is the problem exactly xD. I am trying _really_ hard not to make the dual swords seem like Reversed Life (great story btw. One of my favorites). I will tell you why: because it's not. Eragon will end up with something fully and utterly... unique. I guess you will have to bottle your curiosity for one more chapter though! Next time you see me I will bring you answers.

Maezan - Wow, never knew fanfiction could be that much of a bitch about it. I was very glad to receive your PM, though! I shall put it here for other to see as well before answering it:

 _Heya, it won't let me review a chapter I "already reviewed," but since you pushed hard to bring us a chapter I think you deserve a proper review for what was recently posted. Sorry to hear about more injury (ouch) and I hope those heal too. I personally like the two sword style and I hope Eragon continues using it, perhaps with short swords... Not sleeping is cool and definitely useful. Are nightmares going to be a permanent negative effect? That's pretty devasting, but I suppose tempered by requiring sleep rarely. Looking forward to Eragon learning more and perhaps having temporal displacement from such dreams become somewhat important and noticeable._

 _Great chapter and great writing. I hope to read more soon, but please take it easy. Brilliant and creative writing can't be forced._

 _Cheers_

Now then. The fingers have kind of patched themselves up, so that is kind of fixed for now hopefully. As mentioned above, all your questions concerning Eragon's weapons will be answered soon. Like, next chapter soon. The nightmares are going to be permanent, yes. Do not forget, though, that those who need sleep less will also be affected more if it is disturbed. Nothing make Eragon dysfunctional, though. Just to temper his other powers as you mentioned. Indeed I will be playing around a lot with the temporal displacement/nightmares in the future and it will affect a great deal of Eragon's relationships. Especially the one to come with Arya.

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I hope you enjoyed and I will see you all next time. Peace!


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everyone!

Back again with the next chapter. Somehow I kinda feel like this is a make or break chapter, because you will either love it or hate it. I, for one, hope you like it! In any case, let's get to it!

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As it turned out, Icarus had been spot on with his prediction. Although his wounds still sent agony searing through his nerves, most of the serious damage repaired itself by the fourth day. By the sixth all that remained were red patches of skin and by the seventh those had gone too. Eragon was silently thankful Icarus's magic seemed to prevent his skin from scarring, save for a large starburst-like pattern that remained between his shoulder blades. Progress was slow. Eragon's legs had been too hurt to ride a horse and thus they had been forced to walk most of the way. Even now as he lay by the campfire he studied the back of his hand. He could swear he saw the last bits of cracked skin knit themselves back together before his very eyes.

They had continued to journey south, past Daret and through the nowhere land that lay between Gil'ead and Uru'baen. For days the wilderness of spine had been to their right, unrelenting, harsh and snow-covered. Just before sunset the mountains had opened up into a small pass through which a river had carved a path. Now they camped on the shores of a small lake a few days journey behind which, according to Brom, laid the empire's primary port city, Teirm.

Sleep had come and gone with the irregularity he had become accustomed to. Yet every time he fell asleep he found himself in that same dark cave Alisadne had put him in. Eventually he found himself beginning to dread the prospect of sleep, but forced himself to rest regardless. Yet tonight was different. Instead of darkness he felt the warmth of the sun's rays meander over his cheeks when he opened his eyes and became aware of the world, he saw a great open field. The ground under his feet shook relentlessly.

As he looked around he saw the most breathtaking sight he would ever behold. He stood atop a cliff, a marvelous vantage point over the endless grassy fields below him. Those fields were filled by thousands upon _thousands_ of men. A bristling forest of swords, spears, arrows, some on foot and others on horseback, all neatly ordered in regiments. They all wore armors of a universal midnight black streaked with a silver-blue.

Marching against them was an army at least ten times as large. Compared to the splendor of the warriors in black it might as well have been an army of beggars and slaves. Although armored, their clothes were tattered, their ranks in disarray and their weapons rusted.

When he moved he felt weight in his hands. A spear in his right, straight and sharp, decorated with a small banner in that same black and silver. In his left a shield, brandished with a stylized creature, wings spread as if ready to fly at any moment. The midnight dawn of his cape fluttered around his ankles as a light breeze stroked through it. When he moved, Eragon realized he had no control over this dream. There was no sense of control like he was used to, instead he heard a vaguely familiar voice come out of his mouth as he spoke words that were not his own.

"You must leave now. If you ride quickly and rest little you can arrive back at the capital with the remainder of the queen's army." He said to a young shield maiden. Silence reigned for a moment as he glanced down to the marching formations. He would be the only living being to walk away from this battlefield. Then he unstrapped his shield and handed it to her, watching as her eyes grew big. It was an ancient gesture. Each commander, captain or general had their own distinctive sigil. Although not everybody chose to fight with one, each and every one of them had at some point received an ornate shield from their queen engraved with it. To send it back to her signified the person in question intended to fight to the death, no quarter given.

"I… The queen would have my head if I brought her such news. You are, after all, her beloved." She said.

"Do not fret. I will not die. I cannot die. The queen knows this also." The words sounded arrogant, but it was truth. "Look at them." He said, gesturing down to the marching army below. "They are all prepared to lay down their life. Know that they likely will today. Imagine what it will do to their moral if they see their general is not prepared to do the same." The maiden nodded in understanding and mounted her snow-white steed. With a final glance over her shoulder she whipped the reigns and rode off into the distance, the large round shield slung over her shoulder.

Armed now with only the length of his spear he leapt of the cliffside. Eragon felt his heart stop, knowing there was no way he could survive such a fall. The dream, however, did not allow him to scream as he would normally have. A force unbeknownst to him slowed his fall down, guided him forward. He heard his men cheer as he glided over them until he arrived at the very forefront of the battle. With his feet on firm ground again he turned to face his men.

"Remember why we fight here! You are not here for glory or for honor; you are here to keep your women and children safe from this menace! If you see an opportunity, no matter how dishonorable, seize it! If your opponent hesitates, kill him! Fight now, fight with me until your fingers are no longer able to bear arms or the last of them are slain!" A deafening roar arose from the army as he raised his spear high above his head. He turned to face the enemy ranks as the frontline with their heavy shields circled around him, taking their position.

The opposing army was now less than one hundred paces away from them. "Prepare yourselves! No matter what happens, the shield wall must hold! The moment you falter not only your, but all your comrades fates as well will be sealed!" He said, bolstering his soldiers' spirit. With a deafening battle cry the enemy crashed into the wall of wood and steel. "Archers!"

Wave after wave of arrows rained down upon his opponents, scattering them in disarray. "Push forward!" He commanded his soldiers. As they had drilled a thousand times before they pushed their heavy shields outward, tossing the enemy frontline aside like so much trash. The moment he saw an opening he thrust his spear forward embedding it in the guts of a faceless opponent. He withdrew the weapon from the gurgling soldier and swung it low, slicing straight between the helmet and neck-armor of a second. "Shield wall!"

Immediately the soldier took their positions once more, becoming an immovable wall once again. Eragon knew his tactics were flawless and would continue to work as such. Had his forces been bigger, he would not have had to sacrifice these lives. Yet he also knew that there were simply _too_ _many_ enemies. They could fight an army maybe three or four times as large, but by the time they got that far, their arms and legs would be heavy, arrows run out, wounds sustained. In the end these soldiers were but tools to him. A method to thin out the enemy lines as far as possible. After that, he would have to clean up the remaining mess himself.

Another wave of enemies threw themselves against the wall, not faring much better than the last. This time when they broke formation again, Eragon ran forwards, moving past his soldiers. One of the shoddy soldiers attempted a swing at him. Ducking low he caught the body of the soldier on his shoulder and threw him off balance, straight into his own ranks. Swinging around, he thrust the spear forward, ending the life of a second soldier. Using his weapon more like a club than a thrusting weapon he swung it around in a circle hard, banging three soldiers over the head who staggered backwards. With perfect form he gathered the spear in his hand and threw it with all the force he could muster, piercing straight through three soldiers some fifty paces away from him. Reaching over his shoulders he felt his hands close around two leather grips and unsheathed glimmering steel.

The identical swords were as peculiar as they appeared deadly. The metal followed a pronounced s-curve, hollow part at the base of the weapon, with a menacing recurving hook at the very tip. They were not ornate or pretty, but as he twirled the weapons around in his hands he could _feel_ the craftsmanship. They were perfectly balanced, efficient and deadly. Not to mention they felt like twigs in his hands.

Catching the long sword of an opponent in the hook of his right sword he followed up with three quick sideways slices from the left one, brutalizing his ribcage. Not wasting time he moved in close and hooked both swords behind the back of his enemy, throwing him over his shoulder with enough force to send him flying ten feet. Even though his weapons were light, they were oh so strong! As he prepared to face the next enemy one of his gleaming blades past in front of his face. Eragon glanced his true identity, eyes of violet and azure staring back at him. _Icarus_.

With a start he awoke, righting himself in his bedroll. "What did I just see?" He asked no one in particular.

Eragon, however, was not surprised when he received an answer anyways. "Something you were not meant to."

The young rider remained silent for a second, regaining his breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "It destroys your moral high ground though, doesn't it?" He said, glancing to the side to see Icarus leaning against a tree.

"Not really. I told you it was possible, or do you not remember that? Besides, if you were paying any attention, you would have seen the swords I used were _not_ regular straight swords."

"Since when did you start sharing memories?" Eragon asked, deciding he wasn't going to get much from Icarus on the subject of swords.

"Since tonight apparently. Trust me when I tell you it was in no way intentional or desired." Eragon held Icarus's gaze for a long time.

"You were so cold, like nothing on that field really mattered. Have you always been so? Are you so even now?"

"Guilty as charged, I sadly must confess." Icarus answered, pushing himself off the tree. "I tried to change, to care. For centuries I tried to alter the very fabric of my existence. As it turned out, it was too late for me. Caring was always _her_ thing anyways." The last bit was more of a silent remark to himself than actual information he was trying to share.

"Who?" Eragon asked.

"It matters little."

"But-"

"On this I will not answer you, Eragon. So you can save us both time and stop asking." Icarus said in a stern voice, silencing the yet young rider to be. There was another question Eragon wanted to ask, it was at the tip of his tongue. Scared of offending Icarus, however, he refrained from asking. "Surely you are not going to practice discretion now, are you?" Icarus said.

"The battle… how did it…"

"They brought more troops than I anticipated. After vanquishing the initial forty-thousand men I was forced to employ a rather aggressive type of blood magic. It is my great shame to admit it left a large scar on the land that can still be seen today."

"Where-"

"The Hadarac desert was not always as it was today. Before my… mistake… it was a lush and open grassland. Those who know where to look can still find the traces of my malign magic embedded in the sands."

"You are telling me you _created_ the Hadarac desert?" Eragon asked in disbelief.

"There is a reason I went to ground, Eragon. Power corrupts. Kills. I didn't just vanquish that army, I desecrated it. The resulting carnage was such that even I was not able to stand looking at it. On a whim I ended over a hundred-thousand lives, destroyed the livelihoods of three times as many innocents and scarred the land so badly it is visible even today. It was then that I decided to die, Eragon." Icarus was staring at his hands. "These hands brought more destruction than you can imagine. I only brought terror and death. No salvation. No life." He paced across the open field. "If I had known then the fate that awaited me, I would maybe have chosen differently. Death will not take me, Eragon. I am forced to roam this world for the rest of eternity. All I can do is hope that one day someone will find a way to free me from the chains that bind me."

Eragon was about to speak up when Icarus interrupted him. "Save your pity. It is wasted on me." He said, waving him away. His regal form stood perfectly still, a war waging in his eyes. "You appear to be set on using your two swords. Is there truly no way I can dissuade you?" He eventually asked.

Eragon saw the plea in Icarus's eyes, chose to ignore it. "No." He said decisively.

"Then wake up your dragon and companion. Leave the horses here, they will be safe. There is something I must show you." His dragon already reared its head, signifying it was awake. It had grown over the past weeks, now able to compete with the horses. Its appetite had grown proportionally with it. Thankfully, the dragon appeared fully capable of hunting on its own, no longer needing Eragon to provide. From time to time, when they were sure nobody was watching, it would even take to the skies.

Brom was not too amused at being woken in the dead of night, but after Eragon explained what was happening he seemed too curious to really complain. Icarus appeared to him again in his see-through spirit form. "Follow me." He said, walking off into the dense shrubbery. Eragon was thoroughly lost after five minutes and was wondering where Icarus was taking him. They walked for at least an hour longer, the mountains growing bigger and more menacing by the minute. Eventually they reached the foot of a crescent-shaped mountain. A small stream of water lapped at their feet, reflecting the crescent moon above. Nestled between the mountains lay the ruins of a long forgotten temple of sorts.

Nature had begun to reclaim the crumbling pillars that led up to a large, pitch-black entrance. Icarus waved with one hand, making the rusty braziers that littered the place come to life. "Come now."

"What is this place?" Brom murmured behind him.

" _Welcome to my final resting place."_ Icarus's voice whispered on the winds. Brom's eyes darted around the darkness of the forest, backlit by the blazing braziers.

"Show yourself." He demanded.

" _So mortal… so foolish…"_ Power whispered on the winds. But Icarus did as asked, his opaque form forming in the darkness. Shadows wafted around him like mist.

"You chose to reveal yourself to me, why?" Brom demanded.

 _"It is not a matter of choice. As you draw closer to my tomb, my power grows stronger. Here I can physically manifest myself. Now be done with your questions. Eragon must retrieve something from within."_ The words had a certain finality to them as Icarus turned his back on Brom, pulling those distinctive shadow-like clouds of darkness behind him like a cape. He rose up the steps and entered the passageway. The cold stone was lit by the same green-blue fire that roared outside. Here, however, it was contained in more sizeable lanterns that hung from the walls at regular intervals. Those walls were covered in endless murals, depicting an epic of times long past. Eragon had no doubt scholars would cut of both legs and an arm to find this place. Eragon and Brom trailed behind Icarus, deeper and deeper into the mountain. Icarus appeared to take random turns, probably a safety measure in case someone _did_ accidentally stumble across the tomb.

Eventually the labyrinth of hallways opened up into a huge cavern. Seven huge statues lined the walls, all set in a regal pose. They depicted the seven weapon arts. Spear fighting, archery, the sword, the mace, the staff and the axe. At the far end of the room stood the largest of the statues. It was a robed figure with honest to god _wings_. They spread out over the roof of the dome in a protective fashion. In his hands he brandished two strange s-shaped swords.

Ordered in neat circles were raised stone slabs, each housing a warrior of old. Their flesh and skin had long since decayed to nothingness, but each and every one was dressed in fine silken robes of silver and black, hands folded over the pommel of their swords. _"My former apprentices."_ Stated Icarus as he moved past the hundreds of bodies towards the center of the circle.

"Hey! Don't!" Eragon scolded his dragon as it clawed at one of the skeletons, causing it's sword to clatter to the ground. He swore he saw a glint of mischief in its eyes, but it did as he asked. Above them a crack in the ceiling allowed a few beams of moonlight to filter through, illuminating the very spot Icarus was standing now. He was looking down at one of the bodies, his features hard and set.

"I have seen this before." Brom said, staring at one of the rather elaborate, yet unmistakably unique patterns on the pommel of every sword. "This is the same as…"

" _I know where you saw it. Long before men rose to power it used to be my home… Come now, Eragon."_ He said, beckoning him closer. Hesitantly Eragon moved up the steps to stand next to Icarus. There, on the stone bed lay a corpse unlike any other in the room. His breath caught in his throat. Scattered around the exceptionally large slab were fine, white bones. Almost like… His eyes glanced up to the statue brandishing the swords, then he remembered Icarus's sigil, the dream.

"You have wings." He whispered. In response Icarus took a few steps away from him. The shrouded darkness that encased him moved, grew, until it unfolded into two wings of magnificent midnight black. They stretched at least three times as high as a man and seven times as wide. Shadows appeared to be floating down from the very tips of its feathers, along with a fine mist in streaks of pearlescent silver. Icarus's colors, he now understood.

" _I had wings."_ Icarus said, folding them once more. _"That, however, is not why we came here."_ He added, moving back towards his own body. Here, the spirit that was Icarus appeared almost… tangible...

He reached down and from the hands of his own body took the two iconic curved swords. They looked just as in the dream, equally flawless and deadly. "Aurora and Umbra." He said. "These swords have created and destroyed empires and slain those both mighty and weak." Flourishing them one last time he took them by their tips and extended them to Eragon, grip first.

 _"These are made from Vanadis, a metal no longer birthed by the land. Forged using magic that dates from long before dragons roamed these lands. They will always remain sharp and are impervious to most any kind of modern magic. If you are going to be suicidal about it,"_ he said as Eragon took the swords, _"I would at least see you armed properly."_ Then he turned to Brom.

 _"From now on out Eragon will practice sword fighting with me."_

* * *

Now before we get to the reviewees I would like to say a few things. One: Icarus will _not_ be rising from the dead. No sweat boys. Two: A weapon _will_ be made by Eragon with the steel under the menoa tree and that is all I'm going to say about it ;).

* * *

Tamerlorde85 - I am overjoyed to hear I have gained another engaged reader! As for how long it will take... I think exactly one story ;).

Crooker - Don't know man, maybe SLEEP or FOOD or something! Heh. Yes, I'm very funny. I am joyed to hear such praise, it warms my heart. Hopefully this chapter didn't disappoint!.

Ky111 - Well... uhm... 'I have a plan!' (famous last words). I thought it was a pretty cool twist too (that's why I wrote it), but am glad to hear it confirmed by one of my dedicated readers. Eragon's take on magic is going to be something creative and new. Having magic mirrored in on yourself can have some useful applications too though! Those are all the hints I am going to give you.

booklover1798 - Joyed to hear it met with your approval. I hope this one does as well!

Maezan - One of the things I hate most is unexplained, random occurrences, so yes, I am quite thorough in my writing. Kind of calming notion though others experience it as something positive xs. The mirror bit means that Eragon _can_ in fact use standard magic, it's just not going to function in the intended fashion. A magic-less Eragon is indeed something I do not quite see happening myself either. _I just guess Eragon (read: I) will just have to come up with something creative then!_

Furthermore I shall share with you one of my life motto's "limiting injuries always come in pairs." Trust me, it's true. I will see you again next chapter!

thedemonkid - Oh boy, I fucked up then, didn't I? It was a little hard to second guess though, considering the phrasing "You right well and think you for pushing through the pin to write for us" Apologies kind sir! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite everything!

Vizual-Era - Then let it be known through out all the lands that from this day onward, any and all emotional scarring Eragon sustains is your fault! (This is how reader interaction works right?) Hopefully you enjoyed and I will see you again next time!

David727 - Your prayers have been heard and answered! I do plan to introduce those aspects. All in due time though, for it would not do for Eragon to just gather a bunch of overpowered artifacts and shoop-da-whoop through this story, creating giant plot holes in the process.

Guest - Maybe he can, maybe he can't. A mirror tends to work both ways, though!

Brobe Kyant - I don't know man, the dual wield skill just kind of showed up in his menu one day. I will have you know that so far I have only stained my hands a brilliant yellow (the wonders of studying synthetic chemistry and not being able to handle the aniline). Just a cosmetic procedure though, nothing limiting movement.

* * *

Next chapter we will be introducing another favorite. You guessed it, Arya is making her appearance (though be it from a distance). Peace!


	7. Chapter 7

Allo allo,

A long chapter for you guys this time. I find myself with too many plot lines and too little words to write about them. It makes you guys end up with more to read, I guess. Also there is one major Easter egg in this chapter, cudos to whoever finds it first! Enjoy!

* * *

He wasn't sure exactly _what_ he had expected, for he had never been in a city before, but it should not really have surprised him. Teirm was a place of filth and disease. On every corner it reeked of shit and rot. Eragon found himself longing for his own home, not able to imagine how people voluntarily chose to live in a hellhole like this. He almost wished he could just… step out, leave for a while. Eragon voiced his opinions to Brom, who huffed and grinned knowingly.

"Strange, is it not? Yet there is something about the safety of high walls that draws in the weak. Perhaps that is why there are so many beggars in any city you go to." Eragon decided that there certainly was a certain amount of wisdom to those words.

"Who are we going to see?" Eragon asked, following Brom who clearly knew his way around the small port city.

"A merchant and old friend of mine. He owns a bookstore down by the water." Brom replied. They had left the horses in the care of the innkeeper near the gates where they had also hired a room for the night. Brom had paid the man so many coins, he had no doubt the horses were currently being fed the finest wheat in the region. Although his eyes were watching the street, his mind was still stuck in last night.

" _These weapons are a singular entity and no others like them exist. This gives you both an edge and a huge disadvantage." Icarus said, flourishing his own copies of Aurora and Umbra. "Because these swords are the sole ones of their kind, no enemy will know what to expect. However, this leaves you with a lack of teachers or sparring partners. Luckily you have me."_

" _Such modesty." Eragon replied mockingly._

 _Icarus quirked an eyebrow at him. "If you have it, flaunt it I say. In any case, here is what you need to know. Regular hook swords provide a serious disadvantage against straight swords – in other words, you would be at a serious disadvantage in a modern battle. Hence the hook was moved to the back, allowing for the same kind of parrying as a regular sword. The hook also proves useful for catching your opponent's weapons allowing you to disarm. Alternatively you can get the hooks into your opponent's armor and control the fight that way. This is both your greatest asset and the hardest part of these swords to master. These blades are curved and are thus, at heart, slicing weapons. Remember that. Although they should go through regular armor like butter it never hurts to aim for the weak spots instead. Under the arms, at the waist, or ideally a blow to the neck."_

 _The darkness around them started to morph into a simple circular room made of grey stone illuminated from all sides by blue-green lanterns. "From now on I am your superior and as such you will refer to me as master. At the beginning and end of every session the pupil bows to the master as is tradition under my tutelage."_

" _Are you really expecting me to grovel at your feet?"_

" _You chose that path the moment you accepted my blades, now bow." When Eragon made no move to do so, Icarus lashed out with one of his blades, catching the fabric of Eragon's trousers and pulled hard. He went stumbling forward and crashed to his knees in front of Icarus. "Very good, now let us begin."_

 _With fury in his eyes Eragon rose to his feet and made a ruthless dash for Icarus's side. With ease Icarus deflected the blow and nicked a fine line across the left of Eragon's neck. "That would have cost you your jugular if I were trying. Again."_

 _Eragon rose to his feet, tracing a finger across his neck. It came back stained crimson. Choosing to stay on the defensive now he circled around Icarus, who stood in a casual pose, blades relaxed by his sides. Eragon barely caught the blur of motion and instinctively brought up a sword to defend his face, but Icarus's blow came in low, severing his right leg just above the knee. Crying out in agony Eragon collapsed to the floor, clutching the remains of his leg. "Absolutely pathetic." A soft flame lit up in Icarus's hand as he held it over Eragon's stump leg, regrowing it in seconds. "Get up." He commanded._

 _Eragon fought to his feet again, glaring daggers at Icarus. "We are fighting no-holds-barred now?" He asked._

" _Of course. It's the only way I can prepare you for what is to come. Or were you planning on becoming fully dysfunctional on the field as soon as someone gets a lucky hit in? Pain is a barricade you can learn to tune out. When I cut off a leg it kind of forgoes the point, but had you not let your entire guard down, you might have gotten away with a vicious cut to your waist. In the heat of battle there is no time to stop, you need to learn to keep going no matter what. Come stand next to me."_

 _Eragon, afraid of sustaining another major injury, did as Icarus asked. "It is clear to me now your negligence with the blade is almost instinctive, so we will have to start at the very beginning. What, Eragon, is the major disadvantage of dual wielding?"_

" _That it is hard to defend yourself." Eragon replied without hesitation. He had both Brom and Icarus say that to him on multiple occasions now._

" _At least you listen well." Icarus murmured under his breath. "The key to success is to always be able to defend and attack at the same time." Icarus held out one sword and raised the other one parallel to his body. Then he moved around, reversing the position of the blades. "One blade is always on the offence and another is always on the defense. Before I spill more of your blood, you first need to learn how to move with your blades. Follow my lead."_

 _Icarus took both swords firmly in hand and waited for Eragon to do the same. "Good, one blade stays to your chest, the other one you bring around." He held one blade in front of him horizontally and cut across in a neat semi-circle with the other. Eragon copied his motions. "When the blades are parallel once more, you turn into their motion." Icarus held both swords over his shoulders, crouched low, hooks pointing outward. "Imagine throwing your opponent." He added, arcing the blades over his head until they both pointed outward from his front. "Now holding one blade on the defense, make to swipes across with the other." Umbra described a figure-eight through the air as Aurora protected most of his upper left torso. "And repeat with the other blade." He said, mirroring the motion with the other sword. "Now slice with both blades." He moved his swords in a scissor-like crossed pattern until they both came to rest at his sides. "And resume initial position." Icarus said as Aurora came to rest in front of his chest, Umbra pointed towards the floor under a precise angle. Then he turned to Eragon. "Your turn."_

 _Eragon, who had moved along but had spent most time trying to maintain his balance took a deep breath. "And Eragon," Icarus said, catching his attention, "prefect form. I don't wish to have to punish you more than necessary." Of course, Eragon barely lasted part-way through the first swing before Icarus's wrath descended down upon him._

" _Again!" Eragon said. He had no clue how much time had passed, how many times he had performed the same motions. His muscles were quivering, threatening to give in under the extreme exertion._

" _No." Icarus said._

" _What do you mean?"_

" _Eight hours have elapsed since you came here. You must return to the world of the living." Icarus stood before him expectantly. When nothing happened for several moments his sword shot out again, catching Eragon in that same way he had done earlier. Once more Eragon found himself on all fours in front of Icarus. "I will see you again tomorrow."_

 _The stone under his hands was gone, instead replaced with moss and leaves. He was still heaving and crawled more than walked towards his bedroll, flopping down on it with as much elegance as a dead fish. "It looks like you got a once-over." Brom commented from the other side of the fire._

" _Don't wanna talk about it." Eragon murmured._

" _It's still a little weird to me, you know? I mean, you pretty much just collapsed on the forest floor for no apparent reason, the way I perceived it at least."_

" _Yeah, well, Icarus spent eight hours beating me into a fine pulp. Sorry if that inconveniences you."_

" _Eragon."_

Eragon…

"Eragon!" Shaking the memory off he looked at Brom, the streets of Teirm still ever busy around them.

"What?" He asked.

"We have arrived." The old man said gesturing towards a cozy looking shop by the dockside. "Follow me and don't make any sudden movements." Brom led Eragon into the shop, holding the door open for him. Inside a man of roughly the same age as Brom, hunched over an old map of god knows where. As soon as Brom cleared his throat the merchant shoved the scrolls of the table in a spectacular display of fluttering paper and quills.

"Good evening, how may I-" He stilled as he saw Brom. "Brom." He said, walking over to the storyteller. "It's been too long." He said, embracing him.

"Indeed it has." Brom confirmed. "This is Eragon, a… cousin of mine." He said, gesturing the young rider who stood somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"A pleasure. My name is Jeod." The merchant said, extending a hand to Eragon. Tentatively he shook it.

"Now Eragon, if you will excuse us, Jeod and I have something to discuss. In private. We shall meet at the inn for diner." Brom stated.

Eragon was about to complain at being omitted so easily when a female voice resounded in his head. _'Let them.'_ His eyes darted around the room trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice.

The prospect was ridiculous, but he tried to talk back to whatever it was in his head. _'where are you?'_

' _A few leagues out of town where you left me, you dunce.'_ But that meant… his dragon…

' _You can speak?!'_

The equivalent of an offended snort. _'I am insulted.'_

' _I will come to you.'_ Eragon replied. "Alright, I will see you again tonight." He said to Brom, who shot him a strange look but said nothing else of it. With rapid strides he made his way through the crowded streets, fighting the urge to run and arouse too much suspicion. He stood out enough as it was with his eyes and swords. His head was racing at an incredible pace. He had never considered the dragon might have been female. It was stupid of course, for how else would dragons procreate if there were only males. Perhaps half an hour later he raced into the clearing where he had parted from his dragon. The majestic creature, by now at least eight strides in length was there, patiently waiting for him.

' _Hello.'_ She said, leaning into his touch as he encircled her neck with his arms.

' _I never imagined…'_ Eragon said, staring at the dragon wide-eyed.

' _If you expect me to be about as docile as your horse you are in for a thorough disappointment.'_ She replied, amusement clear in her voice.

' _But why speak to me now?'_

' _Because the time was right.'_ Was her cryptic reply. _'I felt that this was the moment to speak the first words to my rider. To finally reveal my true magnificence.'_ Eragon merely stared at her in awe for a few moments, then began laughing. _'What is so funny?'_ she asked rather undignified.

' _That,'_ he replied, heaving to get his laughter under control, _'made no sense at all.'_ He could feel a tingle of amusement from her. For several more seconds she tried to suppress it, but then the dam broke and she joined in. After they calmed down Eragon shook his head once more. _'On a more serious note, what shall I call you?'_

' _What do you mean? I am a dragon, your dragon.'_

' _That was never in question. You will need a name though.'_

' _What is a name?'_ She asked in genuine curiosity. Eragon's eyes grew wide again as he fought the urge not to laugh again. Then again, for someone new to this world, the concept of a 'name' could be considered strange indeed.

' _So, I am a human, just as you are a dragon.'_ He felt her mental nod of understanding. _'But there are so many humans, calling everybody "human" would cause a lot of confusion. Hence we all have our own names. My name, for instance, is Eragon.'_

' _it fits.'_ She replied

' _Thank you. Needless to say, you will need a name also.'_

' _Where do I get one?'_ she asked.

' _Well, normally it is our parents or elders who name us. Seeing as you are the last dragon – free dragon'_ he corrected, remembering king Galbatorix, _'I suppose you will just have to come up with one.'_ She was silent for a few moments, shifting her weight from her left paws to the right and back again.

' _Do you have any suggestions?'_ She asked.

' _Lamia, Ceto, Scylla'_ He threw into the air, making names up as he went along. Yet as he said them, he already knew they did not truly fit her.

' _No, those do not sound right.'_

' _Katla, Errol?'_

' _Errol? Really?'_ Eragon looked, truly looked at his dragon. Then it hit him with the elegance of a blunt axe.

' _Saphira?'_

' _Yes.'_ She hummed in satisfaction. _'Saphira. I like that a lot. That shall be my name.'_ Eragon smiled at her.

' _I need to return now, Brom shall be worried.'_ She bowed her head to him and he scratched behind her jawline.

' _Yes. Remember, Eragon. Wherever you go, I shall be with you always. I am your bonded partner of mind and soul after all.'_ He held those words to heart as he made his way back to Teirm. Brom and Eragon ate their dinner in silence before Brom excused himself and went to bed. Not feeling wary in the slightest, Eragon chose to roam the streets of Teirm instead. It was after perhaps half an hour he found himself walking into the shop next to Jeod's.

The smell of strong herbs flooded his nose and he had to fight the urge to gag. Amidst the dry leaves sat a young woman with brown curls and heavenly blue eyes. As soon as she saw him, she rose, making her way to him. For a moment her eyes bored into his before her lips curved into a wide smile. "Hello Icarus." She said.

"What, how- when-"

"Oh forgive me, he cannot speak to me directly of course. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Angela, the local herbalist. Come, sit." Angela bustled through her shop as if she were looking for something. "Would you like some tea?" She asked

"I guess?" Eragon replied.

Angela frowned at him. "Guessing is reserved for fools. This time, however, I shall let it slide." Then she disappeared behind the counter. Eragon wondered what kind of mess he had gotten himself into this time. Just as he was about to attempt sneaking out he felt something claw his leg. He looked down to see a large cat with shaggy black fur.

' _Not just a cat. A werecat, human.'_ A male voice said in his head. Just to emphasize the weirdness of it all the cat's eyes shifted from red to a sharp pale yellow. _'Listen closely and I will tell you two things. When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls.'_

Then, as if nothing happened, the werecat moved across his lap, stretched, purred a little and hopped off, disappearing between the dried stalks of cinchona bark. "Ah, I see you met Solembum." Angela said, placing a cup of steaming tea before him. Thankfully it did not smell too weird. Deciding that Icarus's magic would have to protect him if the woman was trying to poison him he took a sip. To his surprise, it actually tasted… pleasant. "So, what brings you into my shop?"

"To be honest, I was just roaming the streets and though yours looked rather curious."

"I see. I could tell your fortune if you like." She offered. She pointed a finger at him. "I warn you, you may not like what I tell you." Deciding he had nothing to lose Eragon agreed. From a pouch she collected a number of white objects. "These are the knucklebones of dragons, they never lie." She said as the bones clattered across the table. "Are you sure? No going back after this."

Eragon nodded.

Angela gathered the bones in her hands and threw them into the air. Under her breath she mumbled a few words that sounded an awful lot like the ancient language Brom had been teaching him and suddenly he knew this herbalist was business.

Eragon felt an almost morbid curiosity as the bones danced across the table before settling in a pattern of disarray. "Very interesting." Angela said as he began plucking bones out of the pile.

"What are you doing?" Eragon asked.

"Removing the ones I do not like." She replied matter-of-factly

"Isn't that like… I don't know… cheating?"

"Are you the fortune teller here?" Angela asked in a sharp voice. "I thought so too." She said when Eragon remained quiet. "These fortunes do not belong to you." She said, pushing a good thirty bone fragments back into the pouch. "Now let us see."

It was almost as if the candlelight around them dimmed as Angela began to speak. "These bones can explain the past, clarify the present and show you the future. This here is the Vegvisir, the runic compass, you will have to search for a direction to take your life in. It lies diagonally across the Uroborus, signifying longevity borderline to immortality. Vegvisir points to the spiral, which stands for renewal or rebirth. You will be reborn to something other before your fight is over. Over here is the spider, the spinner of fate. Many lives will depend on the decisions you make, but that is probably nothing new to you. All these bones falls in the shadow of the lament, meaning all of this shall come at a great cost, be it physical or mental. This is where the runes get a little harder to read…"

Angela closely studied the bones. "A thorned rose, next to the moon. There will be an epic romance in your life and she will be of noble birth. This romance has the potential to outlast empires, as well as gouge out your heart. The hexagram signifies the divine mind, wise guidance, but it is lying on its side, which means it will not last. And then…" Her eyes drifted towards the very edge of the scattered bones. "There is a betrayal of someone close to you, perhaps even family. The betrayal itself has already occurred, but it will severely impact your future. More tea?"

Even when Eragon was in his bed an hour later, Angela's words still haunted him. Would all that she had said come true? Who could have possibly betrayed him? All of a sudden something… other… moved through him, seemed to push him outwards, away from his body. Suddenly he was no longer in the bedroom, lying in the bed opposite the one of Brom, but in a dark, damp space.

"Quickly, you must see." A robed figure beckoned him. Eragon recognized him as one of the spirits entrapped in his body, but couldn't pinpoint the voice as either male or female. Even though he had only been here, wherever here was, for a few seconds, he could already feel the tremendous drain the spirit was imposing on his body. Eragon made to follow, until the spirit honest to god moved _through_ the wall ahead of him. When he hesitated for a moment, the figure popped its head back through the wall in an eerily inhuman display. "Quickly now."

Hesitantly Eragon placed a hand on the wall, only to have it pass through the stone as if it were air. His upper arm followed, his elbow, his shoulder. Mentally preparing himself he stepped forward and… through the wall. It was a strange sensation, dizzying enough that it made him want to throw up, but the spirit was already pressing ahead at a rapid pace. As they crossed through several more walls the sound of a woman crying became louder and louder. Eventually Eragon found himself in a small cell. A window high above allowed the moonlight to enter, illuminating the chained prisoner before him. When her body wracked in sobs her hair parted, revealing a perfectly pointed ear.

 _An elf!_

"You must save her." The spirit said, a certain sense of urgency in its voice as it hopped back and forth between his feet. He agreed, even if the spirit had not told him. Eragon reached out, half expecting his hand to go through her shoulder as it had through walls. To his surprise it met solid, warm skin. Her head shot up, a sudden fury in her eyes as she stared daggers at him. She wasn't just beautiful, she was _breathtaking._ To his surprise, she was looking straight at his eyes.

"Can she see me?" He asked the spirit.

"Only those you touch will see." Was his reply.

"Alright, listen to me." He said to the elf. "I don't have much time, but I need to know where you are." She merely turned away from him as much as she could.

"Go away, you are but another illusion." Eragon moved around so she was facing him again. Remembering something Brom had said to him he tried again, except this time he spoke in the ancient language.

" _My only goal is to save you."_

She whispered something. Eragon leaned in closer, trying to catch the words. "Gil'ead. They imprisoned me in Gil'ead."

He turned towards the spirit. "But that's halfway across the empire!" He shouted in disbelief. The spirit nodded sagely.

"You must save her." Very helpful.

"Alright. Hold on, I am coming for you. I promise." Her only reply was a soft cry of anguish. By now his legs were beginning to give out due to the extreme stress and Eragon was thankful when a moment later he was no longer standing, but lying on his mattress again. His eyes were just about to drift shut, taking him to no doubt another nightmare when Icarus's all too familiar voice interrupted him.

" _Did you forget, Eragon? It's time for sword training."_

* * *

So, before we get to the review replies, I need your opinion on a few things.

1) I find it _very_ tempting to have Eragon sprout wings at some point, as suggested by one of my readers. I have had a lot of success with it in the past (check out my DxD works), but I am not too sure what this community would think of it. Let me know.

2) Do we want to see Brom die?

3) With so much happening now, I can work on chapters which are slightly longer. However, this would come at the trade-off of not updating as often.

4) When the time with Arya comes (and it will) do you want me to push this story into the M section altogether, or would you rather have me publish that separately?

* * *

orca3553 - Let's see what the community thinks man, if everyone is in favor (I certainly am) then it will be happening somewhere.

Vizual-Era - Is that a sarcastic le gasppp or not? xD. I plan to continue giving many more of those nit bits, so keep on the look out. I'm actually really bad at love triangles, so it's gonna be interesting to see where that ends up. Hopefully you will be there to guide me through it.

ThantosOG - Those weapons will come at a cost, though. Just you wait! I hope this chapter was to your liking.

crooker - I'm glad ;p. I don't know how many more bombshells I can come up with though. I guess we will find out together.

Maezan - There you go. She spoke. (happy now? xD). I can neither confirm nor deny your prediction, but maybe in like 100k words you will have the answer (if I ever get that far that is. Hoping so at least). I hope Arya's appearance didn't feel too rushed. In any case, thanks for the review and I will see you next chapter.

booklover1798 - Yay :3. I like it when people like my twists.

Ky111 - I always write my battle scenes like so, but I am glad you approve. No battles in this one, but I hope you found some answers and new questions nonetheless.

Temerlorde - Icarus's dual wield was supposed to be the seventh. In any case, the whole Idea is that Icarus is holding this whole gig together and, in simply shoving all his knowledge to Eragon, he would disappear. This would have terrible consequences for our beloved protagonist, but I am happy you brought it to my attention. I will clarify in the next chapter.

Cat Beats - I do not mind at all, it gives me something to work with instead of daisies and sunshine! Of course Eragon is a little OP, but he has to be if he has any hopes of defeating Galbatorix. The two swords is pretty much because I wanted it so (and damn me for my perseverance). I agree wholeheartedly on the character building and I will try to fix that in the coming few chapters. Hopefully this one already made some progress on Eragon. See you next chapter!

thedemonkid - See?! There you go again! worrys... worrys! It's worries! I do appreciate the review though. Cheers!

David727 - _Actually_ , Aurora means dawn and umbra dusk, but hell, what do I know xs. That's what it was meant to mean at least. Eragon will not truly master the swords for quite some time, but he will become efficient enough with them soon enough as to not hinder the progression of the story.

rasmusemees - I am glad you liked my recommendation. And that you came back to me afterwards XD! I probably cannot hope to attain Rainxoxo's level. Yet. Maybe somewhere in the future I will be as good.

HomoFroElmo - This is honestly the first time I have heard my work described as 'lit af'. I dig it. Please do not steal my underwear. My jeans would be rubbing all the wrong places until I found time to buy new ones. See you next time. Cheers!

Jay - You are welcome.

Mad hatter - The Varden is close, and yet still quite some time away. We will see when we get there. I can promise you, it will be awesome. (hopefully). As for what Eragon will forge... maybe... maybe not... I guess you will find out when we get to that point in the story. I am not too comfortable with the whole Faolin thing, mainly because I have never written triangles before, but hey, there is a first time for everything. I do not get exactly what you mean with the swearing fealty bit. Are you talking about Eragon or Faolin? And which king do you mean? Anyways, i will see you next time!


	8. Chapter 8

Hello guys!

I'm back with another chapter (that I personally do not like! But I rewrote it three times and just kinda gave up). Sorry this chapter is a little later than what you are used to. I had a 40 page research to submit on the catalysis of hydrazone bond formation (veeeeery interesting... for some chemists). Since that shit is supposed to get me a job later it kinda took priority. Sorry again! Also, thank you for the input everyone! I will summarize the results below. All of you (even those who don't review) are still awesome. Those who did review will find something below as usual. Enjoy!

Wings: Yay: 8 Nay: 3 (Sugar how you get so flyyyyyyyy)

Brom's death: Yay: 6 Nay: 5 (So basically I need to almost-kill him I guess)

Update frequency: Now: 6 (+1 to prevent underwear thievery) Later: 1 (I guess I should have seen that one coming)

Rating to M: Yay: 7 Nay: 1 (Sorry sprtgln!)

* * *

" _Terrible form." Icarus remarked as Eragon bounced over the hard stones, coming to a rest a good thirty paces from the winged man. "Keep your blades raised, Eragon. How many times do I have to tell you?"_

" _Why don't you just simply zap this into my mind like the other spirits do?" Eragon asked, wiping the blood from his mouth as he struggled to his feet again._

" _Because without me the spirits would not be reined in and you would sink into insanity. Now stop complaining and actually do some work for once." Then he was flying at Eragon with that inhuman speed the rider had gotten used to again._

Eragon blinked tiredly as he sat opposite Jeod, next to Brom. They had lingered in the port town of Teirm for three days now. Three days while that elf maiden was wasting away in a dungeon in Gil'ead. _'Patience, Eragon. We will rescue her soon enough.'_ Saphira tried to soothe him. Although his training had barely started, Icarus's magic was thoroughly beginning to mess with his sense of time. The sun rose when it should set, he slept when he should be awake and he worked while others rested their weary bodies.

"And it is a price you will have to pay. It is your destiny." Eragon was so tired he hadn't even noticed Brom and Jeod had fallen quiet, staring ahead vacantly as Icarus stepped into the room. "Someone wants to meet you." Eragon rose from his chair and turned fully. Behind Icarus's tall form stood a smaller one, robed as he had come to expect from the unknown spirits within him. When Icarus stepped to the side he saw it was not that spirit that wanted to meet him, but a much, much smaller one.

It appeared to embrace the taller spirit as it was whispered silent words to from her bigger form, then turned to face him. The spirit turned out to be a small boy, no older than eight. Blue eyes wide as saucers stared at him from beneath untamed brown curls. Then the other spirit gently pushed him forward, nudging him towards Eragon. "He- h- hello." The boy stuttered shyly. Eragon recognized the voice. It was the very same one that had guided him into that cell three days earlier.

"I'm not kissing him." Eragon said, glancing warily at Icarus.

"That won't be necessary." Icarus replied. When Eragon glanced back to the boy he was right in front of him. He was about to ask what was happening when a sharp pain flashed through his ribcage. A few days ago it would have sent him down in agony, but Icarus's training begun to pay off it appeared. Instead he glanced down only to see the boy's hand embedded _inside_ is ribcage. Blood welled up around the small wrist and ran down his arm in an unsettling display of crimson on skin. Slowly the world began to fade around Eragon until there was nothing but black.

" _Will you play a game with me?"_

Eragon opened his eyes and found himself inside a simple room. Alone. He got to his feet and looked around. A bed with red cotton covers, unmade, two windows and a door on the far end. Outside the sun shone down on bright green leaves, gently swaying in the wind as birds chirped hidden between them. It all looked so serene. He wished he could be there.

Eragon made his way towards the door, trying it. Sure enough the wood gave way under his fingers and the door swung open, revealing a dark hallway. Carefully he walked out of the room, glancing both ways ensuring the hall was truly empty. Something suddenly hit him over the back of his head hard. "I told you to stay in your room, fucking vermin." The harsh words fell on his ears as the ground came at him with breathtaking speed, darkness enshrouding him.

He sat up with a start, noticing he was back in the same room as before. Carefully he reached behind his head, testing it for injury. The skin was sensitive and most likely bruised, but not broken. So the door was a big no-no in this test apparently. Eragon was pulled from his musings by light tapping on the window behind him. He turned around. Eragon looked for a lock or latch of some sort in hopes of getting it open. There was none. Suddenly he heard giggling behind him.

With a start he turned around and came face to face with something that almost made him lose his stomach. Before him stood a girl, no older than eight. The image was completed by the knee-length skirt she wore. The fabric had probably been red once, in a distant past, but was now streaked with dirt. That same soil was stuck under her sharp finger nails and clumps of it hung from her hair. From her dull, unseeing hazel brown eyes ran tear streaks of dried blood marring skin of an unhealthily pale color. She had that same see through opaqueness that Icarus had from time to time. "Will you play a game with me?" She asked, rocking back and forth on her bare feet.

"He won't let me out." Eragon replied, deciding truth was least likely to anger whatever it was that stood before him.

"Who?" She asked, frowning deeply.

"I don't know."

"I will go see." She replied, nodding vigorously. Eragon silently waited as the girl walked _through_ the wall into the hallway behind it. For several heartbeats there was nothing. Then, suddenly a male voice.

"Get lost!" A high pitched wailing scream ensued, followed by a few thumps. Then silence. After a few moments the girl appeared in the room once more. It was a little eerie to see such a delicate frame materialize out of nothing but thin air.

"He is mean." She said, absentmindedly rubbing her arms, pouting.

"What is your name?" Eragon asked, trying to guide the subject away from whomever it was that guarded the exit.

"Don't you remember? My name is Emma, silly. I'm your sister! Although you were very young when I died. Mommy always let me play with you. Although she didn't like it when I painted your face once." She scowled, undoubtedly in memory of some long forgotten scolding she'd received. "Do you wanna play a game with me inside instead?" She asked.

Eragon nodded. Emma giggled in an almost evil way and Eragon knew he had made a mistake in agreeing with her.

"Alright. It's a game of words."

Emma walked to the far wall and raised her finger to the wall. Sure enough where it met the wood it began to discolor, turning a strange lavender pink. Eragon watched her labor for what must have been hours as she painted line after line until an elaborate artwork covered the wall. Then she turned to him. "Good luck."

He stared at the shapes for the remainder of the afternoon, not able to make heads or tails of anything that had been put there. Long after the sun had set Eragon gave up and flopped down on the bed behind him. There _must_ be something he was missing. As his eyes drifted close, he was not greeted by dreams or darkness, but by Icarus.

"I believe we have overlooked something." He said as he was sitting on the ground, wings splayed out behind him in an awesome display of exotic power.

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked.

"You can't read, now can you?" Icarus asked, eyeing him.

"I have lived in solitude since I was twelve years old."

"Yeah I thought as much. Sit down, Eragon. We have a lot of work to do." Eragon sat down across from Icarus, legs folded underneath him. "We are going to attempt the impossible. You need to learn how to read in half a day and no more."

"Why so short?"

"I have suspended the spirit who is currently in charge of your mind. If I keep him out any longer the 'stitching', so to say, holding your soul together with his will come loose."

"That doesn't sound healthy."

"It's not, so let's get to work. We cannot turn you into a proficient reader or writer in such a short time frame. You will have to ask someone else to tutor you on that later. For now we will focus on the sounds letters stand for. If you remember that you can piece together lines of text by yourself, al be it slowly. As for writing… just copy like a picture from an example for now. Do not bother with proper form."

So they got to work. Icarus taught Eragon the letters, one by one. By the time Eragon had memorized all the letters and their sounds both ways most of their allotted time had passed. "This is as much as I can do for you, Eragon. You will have to rely on your own ingenuity from now on." Icarus said as he got up and took several steps away from Eragon. "Seeing how new you are to this, I will leave you with one final piece of advice. That writing on the wall is a cipher. A code of text. You have to solve it to succeed at this test. Do not treat the cipher as letters, but as pictures and try to find the pattern. Good luck." Then Icarus was gone and the young rider was alone in the darkness.

Eragon was woken by the noise of tapping on the window. He groaned, trying to refuse the need to get up and deal with it. Even before Icarus had messed him up he had never been a very sound sleeper. Then Eragon realized something. The room was cold. Not cool. Cold. It was clearly the middle of summer – the previous day had accounted for that. Gathering his wits about him he sat up and glanced over at the window.

Big mistake.

Outside floated Emma, but she was not alone. Around her many other grotesque spirits shone their dull luminescence into the darkness of the night. He glanced around, blinking twice when he saw the writing on the wall. Unlike the lavender color it had been earlier, it was now set ablaze in an eerie green glow. It read:

GVXAHSZ

YYLWXPF

QVWLDRU

SXERGHT

JRFWHBO

JFKPLUT

YCMLVHT

JEYEQQQ

TWMPOLE

NFR

Gibberish. With some effort he was able to decipher what was written beneath.

FREEDOM IS THE KEY TO ESCAPE

Well, that was a great help. Around the puzzle was a humongous, unwieldable amount of text and Eragon was not sure if it was meant to distract or help. The pattern in those letters, however, was a lot more apparent than in the cipher itself.

* * *

Immersion interruption time! For those of you who want to try and solve this puzzle at home (if you are really hardcore about it), get yourself a Vigenère Square (google it). Yes, I actually made a cipher that works, deal with it.

* * *

Then he felt something touch his shoulder. When he looked, he saw Emma, unsettlingly close. "Come on silly. Don't you want to play the game anymore?" Something was really _really_ off about the way she said that. Somehow she managed to put horror and bloodcurdling screams into that one sentence.

"I _am_ playing the game." Eragon replied.

"Here, I even got our little brother to cheer you on." Emma said. Next to her stood another figure, slightly smaller but equally disturbing in appearance.

"Yes." He said, his voice tiny and almost non-existent. "Everybody wants you to win." Around him started to appear more and more ghosts until the whole room was full of them, their never blinking eyes all directed at him in an unwavering gaze.

"Come on, play the game." A girl in the back said.

"Yes, please. For us." A boy in the front added.

The army of children all spoke in an incoherent chorus, each and every one wishing him luck, urging him to go on. Eragon sat there all night, staring at the wall trying to decipher what it red. The spirits around him were not helping. They tugged on his clothing, demanded his attention, tried to divert him from the task at hand. He tried to focus, for he _knew_ that solving the riddle was the only way out. By the time the sun rose he was not one bit closer to the answer. When the first rays of the sun cracked over the horizon the spirits around him began to lose cohesion until only Emma remained. To his horror he saw a large part of the puzzle disappear with them. That meant he could only work on the riddle at night. With a sigh of defeat he fell down on the bed and decided to get as much shut-eye as he could.

The next night was not much different from the first. As was the third, or the fourth, or the fifth. By the twentieth night he had learned to shut out his audience. Despite his repeated asking Icarus had refused to appear to him. To save him from this twisted dream

"None of this makes any sense! What kind of test is this?" He had shouted into the confined walls of the room.

It was not until the thirtieth night that he began to make progress. By the forty-second night Eragon finally figured it out. As dawn was fast approaching, the horizon already coloring red, he spoke up. "I think I have the answer." He said. Emma, who had been leaning absentmindedly on his shoulder, looked up, eyes expectant as ever.

Slowly Eragon rose from his sitting position on the floor and walked over to the cipher. "Freedom is the key to escape. It's ironic. It is telling me the key to escape, literally, is 'freedom'. There are seven columns of letters. The first row has code-letter F, the second one R, the third E and so forth."

Emma was nodding enthusiastically, indicating he was on the right path. "Matching this with the cheat sheet you gave me," Eragon said, pointing to the large amounts of letters around the cipher, "the text goes as follows:"

' _Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion.'_

"I- it is true, Eragon." It was no longer Emma's voice he heard when she spoke. Instead it was the voice of that young boy who had sent him tumbling into this world in the first place. "You p-probably want to know why this was so different from what Alisadne made you do."

Eragon nodded.

"W-w-well, b-because Icarus changed you so you couldn't use magic, you can't look at faraway places like the elves can when they use their e-enchantments. I n-never f-fit in as a child. I c-could go places without actually being there. My m-mommy could do something like it also. Icarus a-asked me to show you how. When y-you go somewhere, there are always evil things. Things that want you to come w-with them. You must ignore them, or th-they will k-k-kill you."

In unison the children around him got up and walked over to him, each and every one of them trying to find a piece of him to cling on to. "T-that m-m-message is not just any message. M-my daddy taught it to me. This room is your body. That you are trapped inside is but an illusion. Speak the words and e-exit. A-also when you are out there in the r-r-real world." Collectively the children pushed him towards the door, forcing him out of the room. In unison they spoke "Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion."

Together they walked through the dark hallway. Eragon half expected to have his brains bashed in again, but no such thing happened. Instead he came to the large oaken door that was undoubtedly the final obstacle between him and the outside world. When he reached out for the doorknob it gave way. Tentatively he stepped out into the open, relishing in the sun on his skin as dawn broke. The birds in the trees around him came to life and for a moment Eragon almost wished he could stay there forever.

" _I am afraid there is no such luxury for you"_ Icarus's voice pierced the dream as the landscape around him turned into a stark white. He found himself in the same room where he had parted from Alisadne. Some twenty steps away from him was the boy, knees huddled close to his chest.

"He asks for a boon." Eragon turned around to see Icarus standing there, regal as ever. "Instead of spending his last moments talking to you, he requests to share it with his mother. He is… scared." Icarus pushed that last word out with some effort.

"Of course." Eragon said without hesitation. From behind Icarus emerged that same figure he had seen with the boy forty-two days earlier. He tried to get a glimpse of her face, but failed as she turned away from them immediately and hurried over to her child.

"I apologize for this. Young children always struggle to make a coherent story. I tried to help him devise a test more… suitable… but he insisted it be this way. In any case, you should probably visit your elf tonight to ensure she doesn't lose hope. Be back on time though. All of this does not mean that you are exempted from battle-training tonight."

Eragon groaned in defeat. It was childish and he knew it and it earned him a smack on the head from Icarus. "Be quiet and let those two have their moment." He scolded Eragon. Side by side they watched at a respectful distance as the two spirits shared a final embrace. Then the boy began to come apart, disintegrating into shards of the same white as the world around them. The mother remained there for a moment longer, processing the loss of her child. Then she got up and walked over to them.

Eragon could still not see her face as she directed her words at him. "You now carry the soul of my child within yours. Ensure his sacrifice isn't wasted." There was a slight waver in her voice.

When Eragon opened his eyes he was looking at Jeod and Brom who spoke about a subject he had long since forgotten as if nothing happened. Then he realized, for them nothing _did_ happen.

' _Eragon, what happened?'_ It was Saphira, slight worry clear in her voice.

' _What do you mean?'_

' _You suddenly… changed… aged…'_ She replied.

' _Icarus just put me through training with one of his hench-spirits.'_

' _What did they teach you?'_

' _Apparently I can now detach my soul from my body.'_ He replied, musing on the possibilities of such a gift. _'Let me show you.'_

Under his breath he murmured the words. "Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion." Brom and Jeod didn't even notice. Eragon, meanwhile, felt the world warp around him as his spirit burst forth from his body, soaring across the landscape at a ridiculous pace. When the world around him steadied he was standing opposite Saphira who had made herself cozy in the tall grass, trying to remain unnoticed.

' _Where are you? I can feel you close by, but I cannot see you.'_ She said.

Eragon remembered what the boy had told him and reached out, touching his fingers to Saphira's snout. _'What- how-'_ She said, now able to see him. _'I already dislike this new trick of yours.'_ She said, scowling.

' _In any case, I have but a few hours until Icarus will make me bleed again – literally. I have a boon to ask of Brom before that.'_ Releasing the hold he had on the spell he zipped back into his own body.

"Brom." He said, interrupting the conversation the two men were having. The grey man looked at him with curious eyes. "You have to teach me how to read and write." His mind felt like so much mush inside his skull. "But first, I have to go take a nap." Leaving the perplexed men behind, he left Jeod's shop making way for the inn and the soft bed that awaited him there.

* * *

orca3553 - That is a very interesting idea. I might work with that if I do decide to let Brom life. There is never enough drama!

Watchman1 - Wow. Text wall. (shit xD). I am gonna start out by saying what I type here is probably not going to be as long as what you left me and I am sorry for that. Now to get to the contents of your review. I am uncertain yet on Rhunon. For what I have in mind, she will not have known Icarus, but more on that when we get there. I also like your idea regarding Brom, might decide to roll with that. As for the wings - (famous last words) - I HAVE A PLAN! Thank you for the input on the third and fourth bullet-points also. I greatly appreciate such lengthy reviews, it makes me read instead of write for once. See you for the next one!

crooker - Thank you for the input! I am glad to hear you like my fucking over of Eragon, I find great pleasure in it also ;).

Vizual-Era - Of course Saphira retains her sarcastic nature! That way I can have Icarus hating on Eragon in the spirit world and Saphira in the real world (it's a win-win). I have plans with Angela. Great plans. Bigger-than-canon-plans. As for review length. More review is more better i say! Thank you for the input as well, though. See you next time.

Maezan - Well, if you like me messing with time, you must have adored this chapter xs. Indeed it is a fortunate coincidence that the whole spirit-mess with completely negate Arya's 'I'm so much older than you' argument. I must agree with you on that one. There will be more Arya for you in the next chapter. I do not know if 'a partner of mind and soul' will be able to help with Eragon's issues, but she will _certainly_ be experiencing them alongside with him. Yay for more drama I guess. Personally I felt Angela was a little rushed, but I wanted to have her in there because I wasn't going to dedicate a whole chapter to her (not yet at least). Thank you for the review and see you next time!

David727 - I have a plan for those wings! They might not be usefull in the sense you are thinking of right now, but you will be surprised with what happens later. Just for you I took my Latin-Dutch dictionary off the shelf and looked it up. Aurora - first definition is dawn or daybreak. Umbra is indeed primarily translated as shadow, shade, ghost/spirit or darkness, but as the seventh (more poetic) definition, it also means dusk. Indeed I do plan on making Eragon very proficient with his swords when the time is right, but I will not hold him back so much it hinders story progression. Thank you for the input and see you next time!

Tamerlorde85 - Well, you have your answer now, don't you? Thank you for the review and the input, though!

booklover1798 - Thank you, kind sir! Maybe not as soon as you hoped, but it's there. See you next time!

dasbiest - Thank you for the input. As is, Eragon cannot teleport (yet). It is meant as an alternative to scrying as that is something he became unable to do when Icarus altered him. Thank you for the review though, and I will see you later!

Ky111 - I know right? Torturing - I mean - tutoring Eragon is always fun to write. No major plot progression in this chapter, but something needed nonetheless. I thank you for your input and will see you next time!

Jay - Thank you for all your input! I will make sure to take it into consideration as with the others. I greatly appreciate the review and I will see you next time!

Mad hatter - Hmm, I guess I can see what you mean when you say it was rushed. Honestly I didn't wanna dedicate a whole chapter to Angela, but that doesn't make it right. I don't think having Faolin enslaved under 'Galby' (love it) will help, because apparently people want me to do a love triangle. I need Faolin present if I wanna do that. Other than that I thank you for the input and I will see you next chapter!

HomoForElmo - I have been promoted from 'lit af' to 'gnarly' now? I guess I will spoil the easter-egg so you can see if you got it right: Errol is a small, underdeveloped dragon given to the city-guard as a mascot in Guards, Guards! by Terry Prachett. I'm sorry, I couldn't resist. I already had a hard time not putting 'Bluella' in there xs. Other than that I thank you for the input and I will see you next time!

sprtgln - Wohoo! Another first time reviewer! Welcome! I am glad you like the story and I appreciate your vote. Hopefully I will see more of you in the chapters to come!

Guest - I'm trying! I'm trying! Thank you for the kind words, though. See you next chapter!

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Alright. That is all for today folks. I will see you next chapter. Peace!


	9. Chapter 9

Hello everyone!

It's been a while, I know. It's that period during which literally _everyone_ decides they want _something_ done before summer starts and I have been caught up in a maelstrom of terrible planning. To make it up to you I made this chapter slightly longer than usual. It's a bit of a filler before the action packed chapter that will come next. All the reviewers will find something below, you are awesome. Anyways, enough of my ramblings. Enjoy!

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 _They had moved his elf to another cell. It had taken Eragon at least ten minutes to find it. The moving through walls took some getting used to, but eventually it became second nature. He found the energy drain to be a lot less now. It appeared that as he practiced his new ability, it grew within him, becoming stronger. He hunched down next to her prone form. Gently he reached out and pressed his hand to her forehead where her raven black hair parted._

 _He patiently waited for her to rouse from slumber, woken by the slight pressure of his cool hand. When she woke it wasn't pretty. Her arms flailed around her, but, restrained as they were, it merely served to deepen the cuts on her wrists. Glistering tears formed in her emerald eyes as she fought the pain._

' _It is only me.' Eragon said pulling her attention to him._

' _Great. Usually I only have a hallucination a single time. Now they return to me.' She muttered in the ancient language. Her voice was melodic, exotic. Eragon only caught half of it, but understood enough of it to interpret her intentions._

' _I am no hallucination.' Eragon replied in the ancient language._

' _Then why are you here? Are you the next torturer?'_

' _No. I will rescue you from this place.' Eragon felt her move under his fingers._

' _Must you touch me?' She asked eventually, clearly a little uncomfortable. In reply Eragon removed his hand and watched confusion unfold itself on her face. After a few moments he reached out and took hold of her arm._

' _If you wish to see me and speak to me, yes.'_

' _Who are you?' She asked._

' _My name is Eragon, son of none. I grew up in the far north in a small town between the mountains of the spine.' He replied. 'And what is your name?'_

' _I am Arya of Du Weldenvarden.' She replied after slight hesitation. 'You say you wish to rescue me. How?'_

' _I will figure something out when the time is right.' Eragon replied cryptically. 'First I need to get to where you are. I currently reside in Teirm.'_

' _But you are standing right before me.' Arya replied in confusion._

' _This is my spirit you are talking to. My physical, living body lies in a bed in Teirm right now.' When her look of confusion held he added 'it's complicated'. His ability may have gotten stronger over the last few days, but it was nowhere near a sustainable level yet. 'I must go now. Tomorrow I will return. Stay strong, Arya.'_

Brom stared at his breakfast as if he willed it to break into a thousand small pieces, angrily poking at the semolina sludge that the innkeeper had given to him. Eragon also wasn't feeling the appetite, but that had to do more with the fact his body was demanding dinner instead. Those things happened nowadays.

"Jeod has heard nothing. I have no clue where to go from here." Brom eventually said, not looking up from his plate.

Eragon dropped the bombshell he had been waiting for a couple of days now. "I do."

Immediately Brom looked up. "You do? Why didn't you bother to tell me earlier?"

"Because you spent the last three days from dawn till dusk locked up with your merchant buddy. There really was no opportunity for me to do so." Brom huffed in response. "They captured an elf by the name of 'Arya' and currently have her locked up in Gil'ead. We must go and rescue her."

Brom's look darkened. "If it is truly her, yes we must."

"Do you know her?" Eragon asked, genuinely curious.

"I knew of her, but that is not important now. What is important is that she carries knowledge Galbatorix would really like to get his hands on. This will be your first decision as a free rider, Eragon. If you choose to free this elf, you actively oppose the king." Brom replied. The unsaid question had lingered in the air for _weeks_. Eragon had already made his decision long ago.

"We must free her." He said, rising from the table. Something akin to pride shone in Brom's eyes.

"I was hoping you would make that decision. Know that I fully support it. Let us be off then, Eragon. If we want to succeed we must make good time. Gil'ead is far." Not much later they had paid the innkeeper for their breakfast and retrieved their horses.

' _Saphira, it is time to go.'_ Eragon said, communicating mind to mind.

' _Yes. Let's go save an elf.'_ She replied. Eragon looked up and saw her soar high above. To anyone who didn't know better she looked like a bird, a mere silhouette against a distant sun. When they had cleared the farmlands around Teirm and were certain they were alone, Eragon rode up next to Brom.

"We need to devise a plan." He said as their horses galloped over the road, grass and trees zipping by on either side.

"It's a prison break-out. How much of a plan do you need?" Brom replied.

"Surely we are not going to run in blades drawn?" Eragon asked.

"No. Not we. You are. I will cover your escape." The rider looked at him in bewilderment.

"You will not be joining me?" He asked, not quite able to hide the apprehensiveness in his voice. Brom smiled a weary smile.

"I am old, Eragon, although I might not look it. I can defend myself if need be, but staging a breakout is far beyond me. Besides, it will be a good opportunity to put Icarus's lessons to the test. If it will put your mind at ease, I shall spar with you every night as well until we reach Gil'ead." The prospect was indeed calming and Eragon accepted gracefully.

By nightfall they had found a secluded spot to set up camp. After Brom had set him down for the mandatory lessons in reading, writing and the ancient language, he walked over to their packs and opened one of his. From it, he pulled a fearsome-looking blade. The sheath was jet black with little in the way of ornamentation, but the guard was hewn from some sort of gold and the handle made from silver wrap. The sword appeared to ooze power, its very appearance intimidating even before drawn from its sheath. The blade was stained a crimson red, the same color as the ruby set in its pommel.

"What sword is that?" Eragon asked.

"Its name is Zar'roc. Or 'Misery' in the common tongue. It belonged to rider who is no more and through a very interesting tale I will tell another time it ended in my possession."

"Why don't you use your own sword?" Eragon inquired.

"Because I fear it will stand no chance against the craftsmanship of your own blades. At least this sword offers me a little reassurance. Besides, I will not be saddened if it _does_ end up being destroyed." He replied. Eragon wondered why that was. Something like that surely must be worth a fortune and then some.

"Hand me your blades please." Brom said, extending both hands. When Eragon looked at him questioningly the old man frowned. "Hurry please. I need to magically dull the blades, lest someone will get hurt." Understanding dawned in Eragon. Having sparred with Icarus over and over, sustaining numerous injuries he had forgotten Brom lacked the luxury if instantaneous healing. Without much ceremony he drew Aurora and Umbra and handed them over. Brom muttered some words under his breath while slowly moving his hands over the cold steel. "That should do it." He remarked, handing the blades back.

They both took positions, swords at the ready. Then, with a quick lunge on Brom's side, the match started. Much unlike the first time they had sparred like this, Eragon caught it with ease, throwing the blade off. He made to follow up with a horizontal cut, one that Icarus had repeatedly told him _not_ to do. Indeed Brom seized the opportunity and lunged for his exposed stomach. It was only by sheer agility Eragon avoided getting skewered.

Silently berating himself he sidestepped another one of Brom's swings and gathered his wits about him again. Something seemed different from when they first sparred. Sure, Brom was a formidable opponent, but today he seemed slower. Almost sluggish. His blows did not land as hard or as fast as he was used to. As their sparring session went on he found himself not tiring as quickly either. After they had traded what felt like a thousand blows Brom finally managed to find a large enough gap in his guard and Eragon found himself at sword-point. "I win." The old man said, breathing hard. "But you have improved by leaps and bounds."

Eragon in comparison found himself only slightly worn and could have easily gone for another bout. "Icarus?" He said, hoping the spirit would answer. It was silent for a moment as Brom stared at him kind of strangely. Brom's breathing seemed to slow down further and further. Eventually it came to a complete standstill.

"Yes?"

"Have you been doing unnatural things to my body?"

"Please clarify."

"Most of the time I spent awake I have either been sitting on chairs or in a saddle. At first I shrugged it off as nothing, but before I couldn't hope to hold against Brom for more than ten minutes of non-stop combat. Why is it that I barely feel tired now?" Icarus smiled. It should have been a comforting gesture, but on him it looked rather unsettling with those unnatural eyes and powerful wings.

"Well, energy spent in here," he said, tapping against his head, "is taken from the body regardless. I took the… liberty… of redirecting it into something useful. What is the point to training after all if your endurance does not increase as you do it? I hope you do not mind."

Eragon shook his head. "I don't. Just… tell me next time, ok?"

"I promise nothing, but your request has been noted. Say your farewells to Brom for now. We must continue your training." With those words Icarus was gone. He looked at the old man opposite him and all was quiet for a few moments.

"Did he answer?" Brom eventually asked.

"Yes. He told me what I wanted to know." Eragon replied, choosing not to elaborate right now. "He also told me it's time for more training and say goodbye for now."

"You know that for me it passes in the blink of an eye right?" Brom said.

"Perhaps, but for me it doesn't and all this time-bending is beginning to worm its way into my head. Goodbye, Brom."

 _After he said the words the world around him turned black for a few moments until he found himself looking at Icarus's distinctive eyes instead of Brom's simple brown ones. When he looked around himself this time however, he did not see the familiar stone room. Instead he found himself standing on a small stone island in the middle of a sea of clouds. Between the misty shrouds more rocks protruded, breaking the white with hues of grey and green._

" _Where are we?" Eragon asked._

" _High up." Was Icarus's cryptic reply._

" _How high?" The winged man picked up a rock and threw it over the edge. It took a full forty counts until the distinctive clack of rock hitting rock resounded from a place far away._

" _High." Icarus drew his own versions of Aurora and Umbra. "Now that you have the rudimentary basics of your weapons down, it's time to get started on your foot-work." Eragon looked around. The small islands that dotted the 'landscape' seemed in no way suitable for fighting._

" _What if I fall?" He asked._

" _Learning is a painful experience." Icarus replied with a smirk. "Now then, listen close. Until now I have made you use predetermined steps that maximize the potential of every swing. Sometimes, however," he said, gesturing around, "The landscape does not permit such. Nothing is as unpredictable as the battlefield and you must learn to adapt to what happens around you. Unfortunately the only way to master this is experience. Join me, Eragon." Icarus said as he walked towards the edge of their small island._

 _Between this island and the next a wooden beam perhaps one foot in width lay perched above the deadly abyss below. With confidence Icarus stepped onto it and walked a good distance, remaining perfectly balanced as he went. When he was hallway between the two islands he turned to face Eragon again and nodded._

 _The young rider walked towards the edge, staring at the wood that was the only thing between him and a thousand foot fall. He did not delude himself. He would fall. Many, many times he would fall. Taking a deep breath he straightened his back and stepped onto the wood. All his senses became hyper-aware. The wind that had at first felt like a sultry gaze now seemed almost gale-force. With the entirety of his being he had to fight the urge to look down._

 _It took him the better part of a minute, but eventually Eragon stood opposite Icarus. By now he had learned and gracefully he bent to his teacher. If anything it appeared to put the spirit in a better mood that was less likely to leave the pupil in agony for longer than absolutely necessary. Icarus nodded in approval and entered his signature opening stance Eragon had gotten familiar with over the last few weeks._

 _As such the first swing did not catch Eragon off guard, but it hit hard enough to throw him off balance. With a smile Icarus stepped forward and with the slightest push threw him over the edge. Soon he broke through the cloud layer to see the ground hurdling at him at a terrifying speed. Eragon closed his eyes. This would be a_ loooooong _training session._

By the time he was chowing his dinner down Eragon had lost count of how many times Icarus had 'accidentally' dropped him. Sure, by the end of their eight hours he had gotten a lot better, copying many of the movements he saw Icarus do. There were, however, only so many times bones could be broken before the pain remained. Even in the waking world.

' _Come now, surely it doesn't hurt so badly.'_ Saphira said.

' _You should try being flattened against rock eighty times and say that again.'_ Eragon replied, too grumpy about it to mind his manners.

' _Why would I ever be flattened against the rocks? I am a dragon. Dragons don't do falling, much less flattening.'_ Was her equally grumpy reply.

' _Sometimes I wish I could fly just like you.'_ Eragon woefully said after a while.

' _I see no reason why not. I am strong enough now. As my rider my wings belong to you as much as they do to me.'_ Eragon was heartened at her words. Almost exited. Yet Icarus had beaten him into a pulp so efficiently he couldn't bring himself to voice his feelings. Saphira, however, seemed to have grasped them just fine as she lowered her head into his lap and softly hummed.

Brom, who had taken the time to listen to his laments, looked at him with a mixture of pity and amusement. Rolling his eyes Eragon rubbed his sore arms and fell back on his bedroll. "How many more days until we reach Gil'ead?" He asked.

"Two or so." Was the flat reply as Brom turned away from him and prodded the fire.

"Brom?" Eragon said.

"Hmm." Was the gruff reply.

"Say that Saphira and I wanted to fly. Do you think it would be possible?" He asked.

"I don't see why not. Usually the dragon is a bit older than Saphira is now when they take their rider for their first flight. It appears, however, she is growing at an exceptional rate. I think it would be safe to do so." He said, keeping his eyes trained on the flames in front of him. Shifting his gaze from them to Eragon he added "You will need a saddle, however. Perhaps we can… erm… 'acquire' some leather when we leave Gil'ead. That way some of the empire's resources will actually be put to good use. We will probably be leaving in a rush anyways."

"Would you know how to make such a saddle?" Eragon asked. Slowly Brom nodded. "Brom, how do you know all of this? I want to believe you, I truly do. Yet for some reason I do not see a mere story teller with knowledge of such intimate details. Not with mysterious swords of silver and gold"

The old man sighed. "I knew this moment was inevitable from the moment you told me about her." He said, gesturing to the glittering blue mass resting next to Eragon's bedroll. "Hand me the water skin please." Eragon did as asked and handed it over.

Brom poured a bit of water over his right hand and diligently scrubbed. Curiously Eragon watched as a yellow ochre-like substance began to detach from Brom's skin, forming a clay in his palm. With a bit more water he washed that away as well and held out his hand to Eragon. What he saw shocked him.

There, in the middle of his hand, shone the same silver mark that brandished Eragon's hand as well. "You are a rider." Eragon whispered in astonishment.

"I was a rider." Brom replied sadly. "My dragon died in the carnage ensuing Galbatorix's ascension to power." There it was again, that haunting sadness. Suddenly Eragon knew why he had seen that look so many times before. Each time he saw him interact with Saphira Brom must have been looking at a reflection of himself. He felt the urge to walk over and hug Brom, but decency kept him from doing it.

"What was its name?" He asked instead.

" _Her_ name." Brom said, letting silence reign for a few moments, "was Saphira."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

"Don't blame yourself, Eragon. You had no way of knowing. Besides, Saphira chose her name herself, so I can hardly accuse you of stealing it. Though I must admit the resemblance between her and my dragon is… uncanny at times."

' _May I speak with him?'_ Saphira asked Eragon. Relaying the message Brom nodded in agreement. He watched as Saphira's blue mass rose from the earth and trotted over to Brom. They stared at one another for a few moment, no doubt sharing a conversation silent to everyone but them. Then she lowered her head and affectionately pressed it to Brom's chest.

Deciding to leave them be, Eragon reclined on his bedroll again, mulling over the revelation Brom had shared with him and he knew it must have taken a great deal of trust. He looked at the stars overhead and mumbled the words he had so often the last few days.

" _Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion."_

 _He found himself in a dimly lit hallway. Next to him he heard a heavy door slam shut. Turning to see who it was he found himself rooted to the ground. There, dressed in royal robes embroidered with gold stood none other than the shade Durza, his long, crimson hair cascading down his shoulders. With quick steps he made his way over. For a moment Eragon panicked, but then he realized the shade could not see him and merely moved to the side to avoid contact._

 _When Durza moved past him, however, he halted himself. His maroon eyes scanned the hallway until they trained directly on Eragon. Ever so slowly a deathly pale hand reached out to where he stood. Unconsciously Eragon backed off, going straight through the wall behind him in the process. Durza's hand kept going until it met the solid rock of the wall. The shade apparently decided he must have been seeing things and moved on, but not before casting one last look over his shoulder._

 _Eragon waited until he was certain Durza was gone before moving into the cell he had seen the shade leave. Sure enough there was Arya, chained up as usual. Fresh tear stains marred her pale, beautiful skin as she heaved deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Reaching out to her he brushed his hand ever so lightly against hers. Immediately her eyes shot up. After a few moments her breathtaking green orbs found his unusual violet and azure ones. "The shade, he is your torturer?" Eragon inquired. She nodded. "You must stay strong, Arya. In three days, that is when I will get you away from this place. Away from him."_

" _If you keep saying such things I may start to forget you are but an illusion." She said, her words barely more than a whisper._

" _I am no illusion,_ iet ramr, _my strong one. I have told you so many times and will continue to do so. Although in three days' time you will have no choice but to believe me." He added with a snicker. Eragon sat down against the opposite wall, his foot lightly touching hers. It was the least invasive to her privacy that way. "What can you tell me of this place, Arya? Anything, no matter how unimportant you think it is, tell me. It might help me rescue you."_

" _Even if you are not a figment of my imagination, you cannot rescue me. Durza guards these dungeons. Even I cannot hope to defeat him." She replied._

" _Do not presume to know what I can and cannot do. I am a dragon rider after all." He said, presenting his right hand to her. Something sparkled in her eyes when she saw the mark on his hand._

" _Did the story teller, the elf friend give it to you? After I sent it to him?" She asked._

 _Eragon was astounded. If the elf was strong enough to teleport an egg through Alagaesia, who knew what other knowledge and power she held. "Actually, you missed. I found it and it was only through sheer luck Brom ended up knowing about it. He is on his way also you know."_

 _Arya chewed her lip. "Two companions of mine are trapped here also. Faolin and Glenwing are their names. You must rescue them also." Eragon nodded. "Durza feeds us a special poison, Skilna Bragh, every morning and the antidote at night. It's his way of ensuring we do not escape alive. We elves can enter a kind of hibernation to slow it, but you will have to gather the antidote or get us to a place that has it fast. You must inquire for Tunivor's nectar. In free Alagaesia I know of only two places. My home, the northern forests or at the heart of the Dwarven kingdom, in Tronjheim,"_

" _Do you have a preference?" He asked, guessing she would rather wake in her home beneath lush green trees than in a cold cave._

 _Arya hesitated for a moment. "Take us to Tronjheim." She was silent for a few moments. "It is closer." Eragon could tell it wasn't the whole truth, but nodded anyways. He could feel the substantial drain on his energy beginning to take its toll again._

" _I must go now Arya. Stay strong for me. I shall come to you one hour before your breakout."_

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Maezan - Hmmm, yes... very interesting indeed. Perhaps I _will_ have Eragon become Arya's senior by many years. It would make for a fun change in pace, don't you think? Or should I perhaps not be that cruel. He is, after all, already going to get his heart gouged out by Faolin several times over. I am happy you find the magic to be 'balanced' (for lack of a better word). It takes extraordinary effort to plan that stuff out and take into account all the consequences. Especially considering Eragon needs to not be OP after 27 new abilities. As for that last line, I also don't know if you read too much into that xD. It was not deliberate, but I kinda just write down the things that come to me, so maybe it subconsciously was.

David727- Yay new review! You will learn more about the boy and his mother when Eragon passes the trial by fire the mother is going to give to him. It will be soon, so do not fret, little one. Murtagh will indeed be in this story. In fact, maybe he will even make an appearance next chapter. Maybe so will Roran. More lore on Icarus will indeed be following as soon as the momentum of the story permits it again, most likely during a lull when they arrive in Tronjheim. We will see ;)

Tamerlore85 - Poeh, I will try to go through them in order. Indeed his mind will, in time, grow to be far older than his body. As a result he will indeed be a lot less naive than in the books, especially with someone like Icarus as his guide. When Icarus calls Eragon forth to train, he literally stops time. That means this is happening before Eragon goes to sleep and it is all happening inside his mind. When Icarus releases him he returns to the present - meaning right before he was going to fall asleep anyways. What that does to his body you found out in this chapter ;) (maybe i read this review before writing the chapter)

ThantosOG - Well, here's the next one. I am glad to hear you like the concept of the magic. It took me a whole of seven minutes of brainstorming to come up with it ;p. More cool abilities to hopefully follow in the future.

Ky111 - A lot of those things you 'forget' about tend not to become apparent until its too late, so I am trying to put in the extra effort to avoid that from happening. "Plot-hole detected of the starboard bow!"~ some unfortunate sci-fi writer. (maybe me).

booklover1798 - Well, this chapter was a bit long in the coming, but at least it's here now. The next one will not take so long I hope, so you will not have to wait as long.

Mad hatter - Stop being spot on with pointing out my reasons for having things the way they are! xD. There was no significant reason. I might come up with a name later when the mother does her thing, but I am really bad with names for children so I decided to try and bluff my way around it. Shows how well that went I guess... Indeed their meetings now will significantly impact the way their relation works later on, but you will find out about that when the time comes.

HomoForElmo - I know, it's late. Master, please don't steal Dobby's sock :'( It is our only possession. College students are poor, poor people, not capable of buying new underwear.

Vizual-Era - Wow, what parties have you been going to and why was I not invited xD. Anyways, I hope that is why your brain didn't work rather than stress. It's good to know that despite that, at least the chapter was pleasing enough to read. Cheers!

Elemental Ninja 1608 - Well, I'm guessing you caught up to present by now and found a number of questions answered and found new ones to replace them. That's how I roll after all ;). I hope you are still with us and to see you next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

Hello everyone!

Back again with chapter 10. It took a bit longer, and is a little longer in length as a result (almost 4k instead of 2.5-3.5). Now without further ado, enjoy!

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 _She lay still in her chains. For a moment he was afraid they had killed her, but then he saw the subtle rise and fall of her breathing chest. Slowly he made his way over and pressed his cold hand to her forehead, applying gentle pressure. It took three whole minutes, but finally she began to wake. Her eyes opened and she stared at him. "Prepare yourself Arya, it is time."_

Eragon pulled his cloak tightly around him, knowing he was practically invisible against the night sky behind him. Over the course of the last two days he had extensively searched the dungeons. Memorized them. He knew where every guard stood, when they left, where they went. At the same time Brom had explored the sewers below, found an exit that led to the east, opening up at the shores of the Isenstar.

Brom had ridden ahead with a number of horses they had 'procured'. The story teller had assured him that using the ancient language, he could make the horses find him and honest to god he hoped the man was right. It would be his downfall if he wasn't. Saphira rested just south of the city. Although she could not yet fly four people out, she would keep an eye on their escape from above and ensure none of their pursuers would get too close. It was a long shot, but the only way they could think of to get four people to Tronjheim as quickly as possible.

"Are you ready for this, Eragon?" Icarus asked, perched on the rooftop beside his. Even the spirit had pitched in his efforts over the last few days. He had taught Eragon how to make some rudimentary explosives to break down the cell doors and had taken some extra time to spar with him.

"No, but it's too late to back out now." He replied, taking the bow from his shoulder. Placing and arrow on the string he took one last deep breath…

And jumped.

He caught his momentum with a quick roll, disappearing into the shrubbery next to the castle's gates with some slight rustling. "Did you hear that?" Two guards emerged from the keep, glancing around suspiciously. Quickly he put in a second arrow, drew the bow taut and released. The arrows flew true, embedding themselves in the exposed throats of the guards. Quickly he rushed forwards and caught the two before they could cause too much of a rattle. Unceremoniously he dumped the two over the side of the drawbridge into the darkness where they would go unnoticed until sunrise.

Satisfied the problem was taken care of he pressed onwards onto the deserted courtyard. More guards would come to raise the bridge and close the gates in a few moments, so he would have to hurry. Sprinting across the stones he made for the small wooden door next to the main entrance of the large hall opposite the gate. He already heard footsteps approaching when he slipped inside and gently closed the door behind him. He winced when the lock of the door clunked back into place, the sound nearly deafening against the silence of the night.

The hallway ahead was dimly lit, the torches on either sides throwing long, flickering shadows on the unevenly paved stairs that led down into the dungeons. At the bottom of those stairs, he knew, there would be another guard. Pressing his back to the door he mumbled quiet words ahead.

" _Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion." Glancing over his shoulder it was a little strange to see his own eyes staring back at himself, open but vacant. Shifting through the floor he entered the cellblock. Indeed the guard was where he was supposed to be with a colleague on the opposite end of the hallway. Taking a step to the side he phased through the wall entering the first cell. With quick steps he walked forward, checking the occupants. The first three contained humans, then there was Arya's cell, then an empty one and then another elf, this one male. Deciding Galbatorix did not have_ that _many elves in custody, this would without a doubt be Faolin or Glenwing. Quickly he checked the remaining cells but found no other elves._

 _Moving back to Arya who was awake and suspiciously eyeing the door ahead he touched her gently on her shoulder. By now she appeared to be getting used to it and no longer seemed as startled when he appeared out of nowhere. "I found one other elf, dark hair, the other isn't down here." He said rather curtly. He didn't have time to spare._

" _That's Faolin." She replied._

" _Well, I hope we run into Gwenling soon, otherwise we must leave him behind."_

" _Where are you now?" She asked._

" _Top of the stairs, about fifty feet away. Too late to turn back." He replied before releasing his hold on the magic._

Blinking as he regained the use of his limbs, Eragon stretched and notched another arrow. Outside he heard the iron gates fall down into their closed positions. Thank the deities that was not his escape route. More so the lack of shouting told him he had not been discovered yet, which was good. Bow drawn he slowly descended the steps, making sure not to make any noise. As soon as the guard on the far end of the hallway came into view he released the arrow. Without wasting time he drew Aurora and flung it to the side blindly as he came down the last step, satisfied to hear the sound of tearing flesh as the guard some twenty paces away collapsed clutching the arrow embedded in his heart.

With the two guards disposed of he moved towards the cells containing the elves and placed two of the three bombs he brought in front of the wood. Grabbing a torch from the wall behind him he lit the fuses and retreated to a safe distance. With growing anxiety he watched as the flames drew closer to the leather wrapping. There had been no time to make more than three of the devices. They were quite simply made by combining four parts of dry pigeon excrements with three parts of charcoal and three parts of sulfur, the latter of which they had stolen from a rather eccentric merchant on the market. Yet in the two hours he had been allotted to complete the task, he had only been able to get that much bird shit.

Dust fell from the ceiling as an ear-shattering bang reverberated between the shaking stones. Bursting forward through the thick yellow smoke he unsheathed Umbra as well and sliced clean through the shackles binding Arya. "On your feet, come on." He said. She looked at him in bewilderment. "I told you I was real. Now we have to save your companion, there is time for questions later."

"Your eyes…" She said, mouth slightly agape.

"Yes I know. Come now." A second explosion rocked the floor. "We have to save your friend." With that he pulled her out of her cell. Arya followed him to the other cell where Eragon cut Faolin's bounds as he had done with her. He caught the man as he slumped forward. "Are you strong enough to hold him up?" He asked Arya. Brom had told him earlier not to mistake the elfin women for weak or dependent. They were in virtually every way equal to men. After a moment's hesitation she nodded. Handing Faolin off to her he turned his attention to the next matter at hand. Shouting soldiers ran down the corridor, the explosions fire and smoke not having gone unnoticed.

Twisting Aurora and Umbra around in his hands he dashed forward. He connected his elbow to the face of the first guard, sending him down with his hands clasped over his broken nose. Umbra swung diagonally, slicing clean through the throat of the second one. Ducking beneath the swing of the third he caught Aurora's hook on his shoulder, twisting the guard to catch the arrow shot by the fourth. Unceremoniously he threw Umbra at the archer, effectively gutting him as the sword sliced across his abdomen in a gruesome caesarian.

Slightly relaxing he went to retrieve his sword, briefly pausing to break the first guard's neck on the way. Arya followed behind him, carefully stepping over the dead bodies. With quiet words she coaxed her companion onward, but Faolin seemed to be rather out of it. The stairs up took an excruciating eternity and Eragon was glad when he finally felt the fresh night air on his face again. Alas there was no rest for the wicked it appeared. "Carry on, that court yard right there should be empty. In the west corner there is a sewer grate. Get in, close it behind you and go to sleep. Hopefully the next time we speak it will be under safer circumstances."

She looked like she wanted to say something, but the roaring soldier running across the courtyard were frighteningly close now. "Go!" He shouted, turning to face the threat. From the corner of his eye he saw her retreat into the darkness with her wounded friend. Aurora quickly rose to deflect his opponent's sword, easily deflecting it as Umbra finished the job. Ducking low and slicing horizontally with both swords he sent several soldier to the ground, clutching their wounded legs. Not having the opportunity to finish the job he threw Umbra over his back, blocking yet another blow as he caught a second in the Aurora's hook. Disarming the one soldier he kicked the other one, sending him sprawling into a number of his colleagues.

They stared at him for a brief moment before turning to flee back towards the keep. He was about to pursue when he heard the fluttering of cloth behind him. Almost anxiously he turned to see who it was. There stood none other than Durza, a broad smile on his face.

" _Eragon, you are not yet ready to fight him. Run."_ Icarus whispered. Not arguing with his mentor on that point he turned on his heels and ran. He couldn't lead him towards Arya and Faolin and the gate was closed. The only remaining option was to run _into_ the keep. Mounted armors, weapons and shields zipped by on either side as he sped through the stone corridors.

"Come little human, come and play." The sing-song menacing voice behind him said. Two soldiers idly stood on either side of a large wooden door, more asleep than paying attention. They both cried out in surprise as Eragon barreled through, throwing them both to the side and burst through the door. Alas it was a dead end.

Glancing over his shoulder he saw Durza approaching with a satisfied look on his face, knowing full well he had the young boy cornered. Eragon dug into his cloak and took out the third bomb. Hopefully he could use it to distract the shade long enough to get out. Stepping out of the doorway so Durza could no longer see him he reached for one of the torches and lit the fuse, placing the device just behind the door. Then he backed off, facing the oncoming shade.

"So it was you who stalked these hallways for weeks now. Don't think I didn't know." Durza said, flourishing his sword. It looked deadly in every way, but straight down the blade ran a deep scratch. Eragon couldn't help but wonder who had put it there. "But there is more, isn't there?" The shade said, those maroon eyes filled with anger and hatred fixing on his. "Yes, I will enjoy torturing the secrets out of you. But first I would like you to meet my new pet. It will be fun to watch him retrieve the prisoners you stole from me after he is through with you. I will break you just like I broke him."

Eragon was not sure what to be more abhorred at, the fuse of the bomb sizzling and extinguishing or the elf that emerged from behind Durza. His motions were jerky, eyes pained as if he was trying to fight what was happening with every fiber of his being. The man had light blond, nearly silver hair and it was so shiny it reflected the torchlight from around them, giving him a near luminescent appearance. An appearance marred by the large scar that ran down his face, cutting straight through his right eye. Then it hit Eragon.

 _This must be Glenwing._ "Kill him." Durza instructed. Glenwing drew the sword from his side. Eragon realized the elf must have succumbed to his tortures, most likely had been bound to the shade with either magic or sorcery. When Glenwing struck it was swift and without hesitation. The machine that was his body had taken over.

Putting Icarus's training to use he caught the blade using both Umbra and Aurora and twisted in an attempt to disarm the elf. It almost worked and Glenwing was only saved by his superhuman agility. Eragon narrowly dodged the retaliation which was aimed for his neck. He wasn't fast enough however and the blade managed to nick his cheek. Hissing in pain he threw a flurry of swings at the elf in an attempt to overwhelm his guard.

Glenwing was clunky with the sword, most likely used to another weapon. A pole arm perhaps. Surely enough it worked. As the elf staggered backwards, his sword exposed at an unnatural angle, Eragon struck, shattering the sword in Glenwing's hands. _"Saphira, what should I do?"_ He asked, sidestepping as Glenwing threw the tattered remains of his blade towards him with unnatural speed and strength.

" _Do you think he can still be saved?"_ She asked.

Using the blunt pommels of his swords Eragon bashed Glenwing over the head, sending him into the wall behind him. _"Not here and not now. We would have to get an uncooperative elf all the way to either Tronjheim or the elven forests with half the empire on our tails."_ It was silent in his mind for a few moments.

" _Kill him."_ Saphira replied in an eerie echo of Durza's earlier words. _"We have no other choice left to us."_ It pained Eragon to no end, but he knew she was right. With a quick strike he practically disemboweled the elf. As Glenwing collapsed in agony he could see something pass through those unnaturally beautiful eyes. A mixture of pain, release and gratitude. Eragon knew the elf didn't blame him and, if anything, was glad to have been released before he would have been forced to hurt those he called his own.

"Yes, you will make a most interesting subject indeed." Durza said, stepping over the puddle of blood slowly beginning to form around Glenwing. "A shame you had to destroy weeks of delicate work, but I suppose it will make it all the more satisfying when I do the same to you."

Eragon raised Aurora and Umbra, preparing for the inevitable. He would likely lose, but he would not go down without a fight. From the corner of his eye, however, he saw something Durza did not. Glenwing had reached out for the bomb and held it in front of him curiously. He glanced at Eragon, who nodded ever so slightly. The elf whispered something so softly Eragon almost didn't catch it.

" _Brisingr."_

Eragon braced himself, using one arm to shield his eyes. A blinding flash of light filled the room as the floor shook and fire ignited the air. Durza, who had been caught off guard, was sent flailing forwards without any control over his trajectory. Seizing the opportunity Eragon dashed forward, driving his sword straight through Durza's ribcage. A cry filled fith fury permeated the room as the shade fell to his knees, clutching the sword embedded in his chest. Durza clawed at him as his body seemed to disintegrate before him.

" _You should have aimed for his heart. He will rise again now, only angrier than before."_ Icarus said in his mind. _"But no matter. You will have to make haste if you wish to escape."_ On his way out he glanced at the elf. Glenwing was dead, his charred remains blown apart due to his close proximity to the bomb. He looked around the tattered remains of the room, it was an armory of sorts. On the far wall many ornate weapons hung on display, amongst them two blades and a spear that did not look like human craftsmanship. They were too elegant.

Reaching out he took one off the wall, testing its superior balance. It felt light, though not as light as his own blade by proportion. Presumably these were elfin swords and there was only one way they could have ended up here. Not wasting time he slid them into his belt loops and ran back to the courtyard. Successfully having evaded the detail of soldier he gave himself a moment's respite. Leaning against the landing of the main gate he was about to make his way to the sewers when the air about him began to twist and toil.

From the darkness a huge red mass descended. When it got closer Eragon could see it was nothing short of a dragon. "Oh come on!" He shouted to no one in particular, breaking into a run again.

"Stop! Eka waise neo haina!" _I mean you no harm_.

Eragon paused. Brom had told him it was impossible to lie in that language and up until now that indeed seemed to be the case. Hesitantly he halted and turned to face the man but did not sheathe his weapons. "I thought the king had a black dragon." Eragon said, suspiciously eyeing the dark haired man that jumped down from between the shoulder blades of the massive crimson beast.

The man appeared dumb folded. "You mean you don't know who I am?"

"Of course I do. There is only one rider in Alagaesia and that's the king."

"The Red Rider, King's Vanquisher, First son of the Empire. Any of that mean anything to you?" Eragon shook his head. "Oh man, you are a piece of work. I wonder what hole you crawled out of."

"If you don't mind that is not information I'm going to share with you."

The other rider waved dismissively. "It matters little. As for who I am, normally I don't allow people to call me by that name, but I am Murtagh. You are lucky I was in Gil'ead. Had you planned your little breakout tomorrow I would have been halfway back to the capital."

"I don't see how that makes me lucky." Eragon replied.

"Stop being dense and suspicious. Had I wanted to kill you I would have had Thorn unleash a torrent of flame on you before we even landed." Eragon begged to differ, but decided it would be stupid to point out his potential strength to this rider of the king. "My task was to stop the elves from breaking out. Because I am bound by oath in the ancient language, I have no choice but to follow the King's orders. Now," he looked around, "I don't see any elves, which means they probably already broke out and I am too late to stop them from doing so. Although regrettable, such things happen, which means I am now free to talk to you unobstructed."

 _They are closer than you think_ Eragon mused, but once again opted it was best no to share. "I don't know _where_ they went, but I presume they will end up either to the Varden or to their home in Du Weldenvarden. Although I have no way to possibly confirm this, it is likely you are working with them, which means that you should probably take this with you." He turned to his dragon and retrieved a leather pouch. He approached Eragon but hesitated just a few feet short. "Are you any good with a sword?" He asked.

"I don't see why that is relevant, but I did best both an elf and Durza in combat just now."

"You killed Durza?" The rider asked in disbelief.

"Unfortunately no. I was only told later I should have aimed for his heart, but he is subdued for now." Eragon replied.

"Good, that way it will not be as difficult to explain to Galbatorix how you got 'the best' of me." With those words he closed the final distance and dropped the leather pouch in his hands. Eyeing the rider one last time Eragon opened it and caught a glimpse of the green that lay inside.

"Why?" Eragon asked. "Why give this to me. I am a total stranger to you."

"Perhaps, but from your deeds I can see you actively oppose the King, something few dare do these days. It is a choice taken from me the moment Thorn hatched for me. That, however, does not mean I wish my fate had been different. I try to help where I can, to embody what a rider _should_ be. Yet the King is twisted, evil. If the world wants to have any hope to ever be rid of him, you will need that egg. He has been searching for a candidate for years now, has made me carry it around from city to city. When that dragon hatches, its rider must not be raised under the King's guidance, but in freedom to make his or her own choice."

Outside there was rattling and thumping. Eragon heard the drawbridge thump down and watched as the iron gates opened. Through came a rider on horseback. "Sorry I'm late. Some asshat of a magician placed wards on that gate, made it hard to open." He said when he arrived at the rider's side, hopping down. That voice sounded strangely familiar to Eragon. From under his cowl he looked, truly looked and then it hit him.

"Roran?"

"Eragon?" His cousin replied with equal confusion. "My god, what happened to your eyes?"

"You two know eachother?" Murtagh asked.

Roran was silent for a moment, not certain whether to reply or not. "Sir, this is my cousin." He replied eventually.

"The one from Carvahall?" Roran nodded. "Well, this complicates things." Murtagh said.

"Roran, what are you doing here, with him?" Eragon asked.

"I... I-"

"He is my shield hand." Murtagh replied for him.

Roran no doubt noticed the hurt in Eragon's eyes. "Hell, Eragon. After I ran away I was homeless, lost. Murtagh took me in, it was only fitting I offered my service in return. He is not evil, not like the King." Somehow hearing it from his cousin was more comforting than from the mouth of Murtagh himself. That, however, did not mean Roran wouldn't face his anger.

"For four years you didn't visit."

"Eragon, I-"

"For four years, you abandoned me. You left a twelve year old boy alone, to fend for himself through the seasons, through rainy seasons and freezing winters."

"Eragon…"

From within the castle came more noise and this time it sounded like the whole battalion had been mobilized to deal with the invader. It was Murtagh who spoke. "Eragon, you must go. We shall guide them away from here. Make sure you stay out of sight until morning and if you journey to the forest, take a detour south." Eragon and Roran stared at one another, unrelenting. "I am sure you will meet again, but Eragon, you must go now. Go!" He said, pushing Eragon away.

Looking over his shoulder one last time he saw his cousin and the rider retreat into the darkness. He himself reached down, opened the sewer grate and hopped down.

* * *

There you have it. For those of you who wondered, as a chemist I can tell you the described method will indeed yield a crude form of blasting powder, although I would not try it out myself. Thank you for reading and I will see you next chapter. As usual those who reviewed will find something below.

A further note, I would like to point out that _all_ responsibility for Faolin living falls upon Vizual-era!

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Watchman1 - Pft. Someone tells me they are a little skeptical when I say I will revamp the Inheritance series. Tsk. How could you _possibly_ have thought such a thing XS. I am glad to hear you are more convinced now though, and hope you found this chapter to your liking. I appreciate the review and will see you next one!

Maezan - Well, maaaaybeee we can arrange something so Eragon and Arya's roles will be inverted at some point. Maybe. One thing that is certain is that Eragon will go through some major events before he and Arya get together. I have it all planned out and it's gonna be awesome. My RL circumstances _kinda_ sorted themselves out. I decided to drop a course altogether and figure it out again next year, but such is the way of university life I guess. Anyways, thanks for the review and have a good one!

Ky111 - One other elf* still being alive. It's gonna be a fun one when Eragon has to explain to Arya he struck down her friend. I checked on the map and you are, of course, right. But for plot purposes they have to go to Tronjheim, so don't tell anybody else! See you next time!

Tamerlorde85 - STELLAR, LIKE INTERSTELLAR? You were right, this was the breakout chapter and I took the opportunity to drop a few more bombshells on you ;). Faolin lives, Glenwing lived till a few moments ago. You know, that is the way plot twists go! I will see you next time!

Elemental Dragon Slayer - Indeed Faolin and Arya both live. Indeed there will be complications. Indeed Eragon is gonna have his heart trampled a few times before ExA happens. This is the part where I ask you to trust me, because I have a plan! Kinda. Anyways, thanks for the review and see you next time!

David727 - Sooooo... yeah. Murtagh _kinda_ helped them escape I guess? Brom and Murtagh have never met in this chapter and I am still not certain what to do when it eventually happens, but hey, that's a bridge we will cross when we get to it I guess. For now I am content with messing up the Eragon/Roran relationship. This is gonna be so much fun! Anyways, thank you for the review as usual and see you next one!

Mad hatter - Well, If I have my way, Eragon is never going to _enter_ the love sick fool phase. At least, not as obviously and vocally as he did in the books. There will be tender moments and a lot of character building, but not until _after_ I sent him through a whole world of angst and pain at the hands of Faolin ;). Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Jay - Damn, man. One word: punctuation. I agree rocking without a plan works in middle school, but once you enter university it doesn't go so well anymore xD. The bonus is that there are no finals over here, though. As for Faolin and Glenwing - It wasn't me! Blame Vizual-era! Now I guess I must fix his mistake to get ExA to happen :(. Thanks for the review though and see ya next time!

HomoForElmo - Damn, you just tell me that now _after_ I bought a padlock for my underwear closet. Summer updates will be a little weird and I will probably say what is gonna happen at the end of every chapter. In theory updates should be more frequent, but I will be on vacation for two weeks at some point also, during which there will likely be no updates. Thank you for dropping by and see you next time!

booklover1789 - I am glad you did! Hopefully this one was good as well. See you next time!

Vizual-Era - Well, people seem to like this Faolin-alive-thing, so I suppose I should thank you for that first! Now for your review. Perhaps you feel there will be angst and pain because you know me too well. Trust me, there will be lost of it. As for being a romantic, join the club. I have a whole plan to get those two together and it will be epic, heartbreaking and sweet at the same time. Not to mention I will be dumping Faolin like so much trash afterwards. Thanks for the review and I will see you next time!


	11. Chapter 11

Wow. over 100 reviews. That's the first time I have broken that milestone and I want to thank everyone who made it possible!

Soooooo. It's been a _loooong_ time. I guess I have some explaining to do (lest my underwear gets stolen, long story). I know what you are thinking: He didn't do his writing homework! Not true! I wrote this chapter not once, not twice but _thrice_. Word decided to delete the first version and corrupt the second.

To make matters worse my life is coming together in a clusterfuck of deadlines and end-term exams. In two weeks my summer break will start and until that time I hope to get one, maybe two more chapters out, but do not expect too much (I really wanna get my good grades first). Again apologies. In any case, after a long wait it is finally here, so enjoy!

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"Fuck!" Eragon swore as an arrow embedded itself in his shoulder. Grimacing he reached over and pulled the barbed steel out of his flesh. His hand came back stained crimson red. Angrily he threw it in the general direction of the pursuers behind him, satisfied to hear them cry out in surprise. Meanwhile his horse galloped on as if nothing had happened. Just ahead a second horse ran, this one with two riders, though neither held the reins.

He had strapped the elves to the saddle and covered them with alternating layers of leafy branches and cloth. The method was crude and rudimentary, but it kept the arrows at bay. They would stink, be sore and bruised by the time they arrived at the Varden, but they would be alive. The wound on his shoulder was already beginning to patch itself up, courtesy of Icarus's shared power. Eragon glanced over his unhurt shoulder. There at the spearhead of the chase party rode Durza, his long hair dancing in the wind, that same wicked smile still on his face. He had appeared again two days ago. Eragon wondered how the shade had managed to catch up with them for he had ridden day and night for four days straight now. Then again, perhaps he should also be glad Murtagh wasn't sent after them. He would stand no chance at outrunning a dragon.

" _Saphira, they are gaining. We must do something."_

" _What do you suggest?"_ She replied.

" _How much further is it?"_ Eragon asked.

" _This valley ends in steep cliffs in perhaps two thousand paces."_ She replied. There, either they would find the Varden or a fate much, much worse. There had been no time to deliberate, to determine where they were and make a though through decision. It had been a sheer gut based decision to follow the left most of the two valleys. At times he managed to drive a gap between him and his pursuers, but he would have to grab fresh horses. Then they would be close again until they had to get new horses themselves. It had been like that for days now. _"What are you planning?"_

" _I think it is time we put Brom's saddle to the test."_ He replied. In return he heard her snort.

" _About time. It would have been a damn shame if I flew around with that thing for four days straight and never put it to use."_ She replied. _"Give me nary a moment. Up ahead is a field, clear enough of trees to allow us space."_ Eragon knew where she was, felt her muscles work as she pulled herself into a steep dive. The noise of iron splitting air brought him back to his own body and he dove to the side just fast enough to avoid another arrow.

Behind him he heard a feral roar that shook the ground and there was Saphira, sweeping down low and knocking the archer off his horse with her razor sharp talons. She snapped her jaws shut over the head of a second soldier before her forward momentum pulled her out of reach of the soldiers. He could hear their cries of surprise, mingled with Durza's triumphant one. _"Get ready."_ She said as she remained as level as she could without flapping her wings too much.

Later he would tell tales of this moment and even he was not quite sure how he pulled off the feat, but with surprising balance he hopped on top of the saddle. With a powerful jump he closed the distance between him and his dragon, narrowly avoiding being skewered on one of her spinal spikes. He caught a leather loop of the saddle on Saphira's back, knocking her off balance and making her right wing scrape over the rocky forest ground. Ignoring the pain she felt through their shared bond, he pulled himself into the saddle, feeling her strong muscles work under his hands.

" _This is not at all how I imagined our first flight to be."_ Eragon said, the adrenaline from said feat still pumping through his veins.

" _Well, let's make it count."_ She replied, pulling away from the ground, narrowly missing the treetops ahead. For a moment Eragon allowed himself to enjoy the sensation of flight. He hollered, sharing Saphira's joy. He was pulled out of his exhilaration by an arrow that almost tore through her wing.

The horse carrying Arya and Faolin would keep running, the screaming soldiers behind it would make sure of that. Meanwhile Saphira circled around while Eragon took his bow and knocked an arrow into it. At first he had presumed perhaps twenty men were after him and the elves, but now from above he saw how wrong he had been. At least one hundred soldiers, spread out over maybe two miles behind them were engaged in the pursuit, swapping with those at the front when their comrades grew tired.

" _I have never shot a bow and arrow from the back of a dragon before."_ He mused, releasing the arrow and watching it bore straight through the breastplate of one of the soldiers.

" _I don't imagine it being much different than on horseback."_ Saphira replied.

" _You would be surprised. You provide a much more level and stable platform to shoot from."_

" _I am glad my stability meets with your approval."_ She snorted, diving down and knocking another two soldier off their horses. Feeling the need to match her he put three arrows on the bowstring, drew and shot, nailing thee others square in the face. _"Showoff."_ She snorted, but he could feel her amusement nonetheless. _"Look, the end of the valley draws near."_ She said.

Suddenly surprised cries arose from the soldiers below them. He glanced down to see a hail of arrows descending upon them. Relief filled him as he saw Durza's smirk turn to a frown, pulling the reins and forcing his horse to a standstill. The arrows directed at him merely incinerated perhaps a foot from him as he watched his men get riddled with them. In a cry of rage the shade sent a rather deadly looking miasma of fire their way which Saphira only narrowly managed to dodge before he turned his horse around and disappeared into the tree line. _"It appears we managed to find the Varden."_ She remarked dryly, recovering from her sudden jerk to the right to avoid Durza's magic.

" _We make a crack team."_ Eragon remarked.

" _Of course, you are my rider and I am your dragon."_ She replied matter of factly. _"Now you should join your elves on the ground. Something tells me the Varden will want an explanation."_ Saphira dove down and gracefully touched down beside the horse carrying Arya and Faolin. The horse snorted and moved restlessly in Saphira's presence. It almost managed to run away, but Eragon got hold of the reins just in time and forced it to stay where it was. _"I will wait above."_ Saphira remarked before taking to the skies once again.

Behind him a rag-tag band of men holding bow and arrow emerged from the wood, forming a line and successfully cornering him and the elves. "Who is it that stands before our gates?" A deep voice boomed and echoed between the rocks.

"I am Eragon, son of no one. I bring with me the elves Arya and Faolin." He replied to no one in particular.

"Your arrival was expected, you may continue." What Eragon had at first perceived to be steep, flawless rock turned out to be nothing less than a gate! With a low, deliberate motion the heavy doors swung open, revealing the true majesty of their craftsmanship. Behind him the archers disbanded, disappearing back into the shrubbery before Eragon had a chance to thank them.

Shrugging his shoulders he took the horse carrying Arya and Faolin and pressed onwards into the darkness of the dwarven kingdom. It was hard to see at first, much of the interior turned to silhouettes by the blinding sun behind him. It was not until the doors closed behind him once again Eragon was able to truly take in his surroundings. The walls were adorned with lanterns. They were not regular lanterns, for their flames were bright and even, as if a thousand fireflies had been captured and suspended in each and every one of them. Had they been made with magic perhaps?

From one of the connecting tunnels a man arrived. He looked like a regular guard, save for the decorations that adorned his chest piece. "Allow me to introduce myself." The man said, bowing ever so lightly so his black hair streaked with grey fell over his eyes. "My name is Jörmundur. I am lord-commander of the armies that stand united against Galbatorix and call themselves the Varden."

"The pleasure is mine." Eragon replied. "The elves have been poisoned and need to be taken to one of your healers. They require Tunivor's Nectar for the poison Durza gave to them was quite potent."

"You crossed blades with the king's shade?" Jörmundur asked, slightly impressed.

"Briefly." Eragon replied. "I have traveled long and fast, is there by any chance a place I could briefly rest?" He asked, slightly wonky on his feet after five days of non-stop riding.

"I am afraid there is one more thing I must ask of you. It is required your mind is tested first. I did not make this law, nor do I feel the particular need to enforce it now. I am afraid, however, my hands are bound. Do you consent to having one of our magicians validate your claims?"

" _Eragon, it would be highly inadvisable to have them touch your mind. It will cause irreparable damage to the person who will try to force themselves upon you."_ Icarus whispered in his mind.

Somehow Eragon was glad, the prospect of sharing his mind not a welcome one. "Although I would like to comply, I am afraid I must decline for the magician's sake."

"I ask you to please respect our only line of defense between us and spies of the Empire. I will be forced to lock you up if you do not give your consent." Jörmundur pressed.

 _As if arriving on dragon's back didn't count for anything. "Icarus?"_ Eragon asked.

" _Let them. We have given them fair warning now."_

"Do not say I did not warn you." Eragon replied, lowering his cowl so Jörmundur had a clear view of his otherworldly complexion. If he was indeed surprised by the eyes, he did not vocalize it. Instead the lord-commander nodded and gestured with his hand. From the shadows two tall, bald men emerged dressed in robes of purple and gold.

"These are the twins and represent the strongest magicians among us. They have been tasked with testing all who wish to enter these halls." Jörmundur explained. One of the two stepped forward, his face blank and expressionless.

Then Eragon felt it. A distinctly wrong presence pushing up against his thoughts. It felt like cold, disgusting slime, slowly crawling over skin. Eragon closed his eyes, preparing himself to endure. Yet something unexpected happened. Something within him shifted, bundling together. Then, with an enormous shove of power it pushed outward, destroying the invader. Eragon felt the man's mind shatter to a thousand pieces before him. He saw everything; his memories, feelings, loyalties.

When he opened his eyes he saw the twin had collapsed to the ground, blood trickling down from his closed eyelids. The other twin was hunched over, clawing uncontrollably at his own eyes and shouting obscenities. "You dare strike against us?" Jörmundur said, his hand around the hilt of his sword.

"Stop this madness at once!" Both Eragon and Jörmundur turned to saw Brom walking towards them with brisk steps. "Do you not know who stands before you? I thought I made myself quite clear." Brom spoke sternly to the lord-commander.

"I know, but regulations dictate-"

"Then I vouch for him. Would you like to have me tested as well?" Brom asked.

"No, of course not. I beg forgiveness." Brom gave the man a silent stare for a moment, then with a jerk of his head motioned for the commander to bugger off.

"My apologies for that fool. I would hear more of your travels, but you are no doubt tired, so it can wait. Before you can rest, however, I am afraid Ajihad, the leader of the Varden has ordained to see you." Brom said to Eragon in a much gentler tone. He gestured towards one of the hallways, waiting for Eragon to take the lead. When they walked by the sulking Jörmundur Eragon spoke up.

"You might want to lock those two up. They are two of those spies of the empire you fear so much." Eragon said, leaving the lord-commander behind wide eyed.

"What did you do to those two?" Brom asked.

"I did nothing. One of them tried to pry into my mind. I was going to let him, but then something within just collectively destroyed him. Icarus warned something similar might happen. Told Jörmundur too, but he insisted. The other just kinda… followed suit."

Brom shrugged. "Well, if they were indeed spies I suppose we should be happy things happened the way they did. The rest of their journey passed in silence until Brom halted in front of a large, oaken door. "These are Ajihad's chambers. Be careful what you say in there, Eragon. It will likely shape a large part of your future." Brom advised. "Once you are rested, come find me. Most of the servants will know where to find me." He added before walking off into the dimly lit tunnels ahead.

 _Just this one last thing, then you can rest._ Eragon thought to himself. _"Saphira? Have you found a place to rest yet?"_ Eragon asked.

" _Hmn. 'A place' doesn't do it justice. But I am close by should you need me."_ Was her lazy reply. She sounded half asleep already. Although sleep rarely came to him, it was a welcome prospect indeed after four days and four night of non-stop riding.

" _Want to share what castle the evil dragon has nested in?"_ He replied sarcastically.

" _Oh, one with a princess and a hoard of gold."_ Was her equally sarcastic reply. _"Fret not. When you are done with Ajihad you must merely look up."_

" _Up?"_ But she refused to give him more answers. Having no other options left to him Eragon took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to Ajihad's chambers. Eragon had not known what to expect from the fearsome leader of the Varden, but it was not what he saw. Ajihad was a broad shouldered man with dark skin and eyes from which shone unhidden wisdom. It only took one glance for Eragon to know that the title 'leader' was befitting of the man.

Eragon was not quite sure what to do, but thankfully Ajihad took over for him. "I am honored. Never before has a _rider_ been in my presence. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Ajihad. Although the Varden has no true leader – for we come from too many places and too many cultures - I am often chosen to speak for them as one." His voice was outlandish, exotic. Clearly not used to the common tongue. If Ajihad was at all fazed by his unnatural eyes, it did not show.

"The honor is mine. My name is Eragon, son of no one." Eragon replied.

"Please, have a seat." Ajihad gestured to the chair opposite his own and nodded to the two guards standing on either side of the door. They quietly slipped through the door behind Eragon.

"You are awfully quick to trust me. Way quicker than Jörmundur."

"Well, this is the way I see it. Few know this, but the Varden teeters on the edge of failure. Bankruptcy, incoherency and supply shortages nibble at the fringes day in day out. The empire has not one, but _two_ riders in employ. We are outnumbered, outgunned and out supplied. If you are not on our side, we are all doomed regardless. That, and you brought us our elven ambassadors back."

"There is wisdom in that." Eragon conceded.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, I wish to ask you, what is it you plan to do here in the Varden?"

The question took Eragon aback. The rush to get here had been because of Arya and Faolin. Not one moment had he thought of what would come _after_ that. "I do not know." He replied truthfully.

Ajihad frowned and chewed on his bottom lip. "I wish I could keep you here. Announcing and showing off a rider of our own would no doubt bolster moral, draw more men to join our ranks. However, before you become of any use to anyone, you must first learn. We lack teachers here, so my suggestion to you is that after you rest, you journey north, to the elven forests. They can teach you more about dragons and magic than we ever could."

Eragon could see the wisdom in that. "Although you will have to be a lot more careful from now on. If they were not already aware, the chase party you brought with you must have told the king about your existence by now. We were unsuccessful in hunting them all down, not to mention we wouldn't have been able to kill the shade regardless. With your… features… you are a little hard to miss." Ajihad remained silent again for some time, before standing and pacing around the room behind Eragon.

"There is one last thing I wished to ask you. Who will you liaise yourself with?"

"I beg your pardon?" Eragon asked, uncertain what he meant.

"The Varden are not the only ones who stand against Galbatorix. There are also the elves, Surda and the dwarves to consider. All of them will be vying for your undivided attention to increase their influence over the others. Such are politics, I am afraid."

"Are you vying for my undivided attention right now?" Eragon asked.

"No. I am an idealistic man. A suicidal tendency in my position, but every man must have his flaws. If it were up to me, I would have you remain an independent entity." Ajihad mused.

"Are you saying I simply not help anyone?"

"No. You embody the strongest potential weapon we have against the empire. You should help everyone in equal measure and be there where you are needed most. If I might give you one piece of advice, Eragon, it is to fight for that independence until your last breath." He let the silence reign for a moment. "When you reach the elves, I have a favor to ask of you."

"I do not see how I am in any position to give you anything, but I will see what I can do." Eragon replied.

"The elves… lately they have withdrawn into their forests. The Varden are doomed without their aid. I beg you to seek out Queen Islanzadi, their monarch, and beg them to reconsider."

"It is the least I can do for your hospitality and your endeavors to save Arya and Faolin. Speaking of them, how are they doing?"

"As well as two poisoned elves after four days of nonstop riding covered in leaves and wool can hope to be doing. They will recover, but it will take time. If that will be all, I think this will not be the last time we speak." Eragon knew it was dismissal and he was not about to object. A bed sounded damn good right now. With a nod from Ajihad he rose and left. Outside a small audience had gathered. Apparently the rumor of his arrival had spread quick. Without exception they all stared. It was discomforting.

Quickly he pulled his hood over his head, covering his unusual eyes. A girl, barely woman walked by. His hand shot out and closed around her forearm. She gasped and looked at him with big green eyes. "Tell me, what is your name?" Eragon asked.

"Nemeya, sir." She replied shyly.

"A pretty name befitting of a pretty girl. Do you by any chance know where I might find my chambers?" He asked in a quiet voice.

"Y… yes sir. Please, follow me."

* * *

There you have it. I hope to see you all again next chapter and thank you to all who reviewed! There are so many of you... If you guys keep this up I'm gonna be writing more replies than chapters! (AND THAT'S NOT A BAD THING!)

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Maezan - Boy it's been a long time and it's good to see you. Many twists indeed, as for the Deja Vu. There are only three places to put Murtagh: with Eragon, against Eragon or six feet under. There are bound to be some similarities here and there xs. I'm sorry this chapter was so long in waiting, but I hope it was worth it. See ya next time!

Vizaul-Era - Hey, there is a reason I ask for reviews. I listen to them and actually take what you write to heart. It's called reader-writer interaction and it's modern and classy. Thank you so very much for the review and I will make sure lots of people will hate you for making Faolin live ;). See ya next time!

FaolenBOokWolf - I am glad the story meets with your approval. Hopefully you are still with us this time around!

thedemonkid - I will make it everlasting in its golden purity, just to frustrate my readers. Eragon and Arya will never be together! Muhaha.

Tamerlorde - That backstory will be long in coming, but it's coming. Fear not, I will dream up some reason for things to be the way they are by the time we get there! I appreciate you dropping by and I will see you next time!

Ky111 - Oh Arya will be antagonizing Eragon for quite some time and it's gonna take an extraordinary event to bring those two back together... It's totally not like I'm setting up a long chain of dominoes that will all fall in a controlled manner into a specified outcome. Also my name is not Machiavelli. As you know, words of reason may or may not fall on deaf ears when the person you are speaking to is in an emotional state... Sorry for the long wait, but I am glad to know you are still with me. See ya next one!

orca3553 - Perhaps he will, perhaps not. Stick with me for a while and you will find out!

David727 - Not anymore they are not. Arya will be quite emotional when she finds out what Eragon did though. As for the antidote, I don't think rummaging through a castle full of enemy soldier to find an antidote is such a fantastic plan. But hey, that's just my logic xs. It is indeed the egg Murtagh gave to Eragon and I know exactly when and for who it will hatch. But you don't. And that's why you are still here ;). I will see you next time!

stevansalzman - That sentence did not make sense to me. But thank you!

Mad hatter - Well, to make up for the lack of saphira in the last chapter, there is a lot more of her in this one! There will be many more fight scenes to come, so I'm glad you can appreciate the style. I would not have you sit through something you detest. Eragon must have _some_ obstacles. If he just breezed through it would be boring. Something must compensate for Icarus. Besides, it will make the catharsis all the better when he gets the girl and saves his cousin and half brother. Thank you for still being with me and see ya next time!

Jay - XS. I plan a much more heroic way for Faolin to go. I cannot say much but it will involve a blender, chloroform and permanent marker. I guess I will just imagine all those commas and periods in your review and thank you for writing it. I will see ya next one!

HomoForElmo - Ok. I honestly don't know what to reply to that. I would try willow. Those branches become flexible as hell when you keep them submerged for a day or two.

Brobe Kyant - Katarina will be there, Roran will still save her, the relationship will be complicated between Eragon and him. Confusion is good, let it flow through you. It is a natural thing to feel after something we writers call a 'plot twist'. Glad to see you still around and I will see you next time!

booklover1798 - That was probably because he was only ever mentioned by name once or twice in the original. The same reason I did not give him a big role here either. Sorry you had to wait so long for this one, but I hope it was worth it! See ya next time.

ImpossibleClara9 - Oh man, so I now have like your inheritance-fiction-ginity or something? I feel honored! If you ever need some pointers let me know. There are a few more good fics out there, some of which even I can't top. Sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter, but hang in there! It will all get better in a week or two. See ya next time!

Sebastian Asselbergs - Wow. I am honored, truly. I do not deserve so much praise. Now the finger tips is a funny story. This is how it went down: I was sitting at home (I live alone) and suddenly I get this call from a group of my friends that they want to come over, but they hadn't had dinner yet.

Now you must know, I cook a lot. Like, seriously a lot so I am quite skilled at preparing food (including cutting it)

So I pulled open the cupboard and all I had was onions. Just a shit ton of onions. So I thought, many people+many onions=onion soup. Problem: you need to cut all the onions. Now at this point I was not exactly sober anymore. Maaaaybeee I was three long island ice-tea's into my evening at this point.

Turns out I am not that coordinated with my knives anymore when I am not sober. And I keep my knives _very_ sharp. And that's how I lost two fingertips.

Neko - Is it? I didn't know xD. Also a good answer, but I was referencing to a small, undergrown dragon (also named Errol) that is given to the guards of a city as a mascot in the books of Terry Prachett.

sortofbored - Glad you approve. Sorry this one was so long in the making. Thank you for taking a moment to leave a comment!


	12. Chapter 12

Helooooo Everyone!

It has been a small eternity indeed (more like two weeks, but I warned you about that in the previous chapter), and now I have returned to you with more tales of death and disease! I ended up with decent enough grades and got my year at uni done. Thank you all for waiting around so without further ado, here is the chapter. Enjoy!

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Eragon was quietly lounging in his favorite spot, perched high above Tronjheim on the cave wall. With quiet determination he moved a whetstone over the deadly curve of metal. It would not sharpen the blade in any way – the magic that permeated the metal kept it sharper than any human could ever hope to grind a blade – but Icarus had ensured him it would take his mind off things.

To his surprise, he had been right. Over the past few days he had discovered the dwarves were not exactly… open people. They had issues with humans. Even more so with those that also had a dragon and unmatching azure and violet eyes. _'Don't take it so personally, little one. They are just confused'_ Saphira said.

' _How did she word it again? "He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up?"'_

' _I am sure that merchant meant that in the nicest way possible.'_

' _I don't care, not really. Most of them are just modest little people with a lot to be modest about.'_

"That attitude makes you unpopular very quickly."Wings rustled at the edge of his vision as Icarus sat down next to him.

"So what? They are not part of this fight, I don't need them to like me, I need them to stay out of the way. I have tried being nice to them, I have tried talking to them, helping them. All they do is mistrust me and spit at my feet."

Icarus turned to look at the young rider. "No, they will never like you. You are too smart to be liked, but you can be idolized. How do you win a war, Eragon?"

"You fight against your opponent and you win." He replied simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"Alright, so let's go out on a limb here and say you defeat Galbatorix. A new ruler sits on the throne and sways the scepter. Does this new king hold any power over his subjects?"

"Of course. Don't the people want to be liberated?" Eragon replied.

"Liberated from what occupier? Galbatorix has ruled for _centuries._ Those people don't know any better. Sure, conditions may be harsh, but their lands are protected from bandits and the laws they live by are just. They are not waiting for a foreign invader to murder their king, put their brothers and fathers who serve in the army under the ground and reduce their homes to rubble. By the time you have 'won' your war you will have an uprising of unprecedented proportions on your hands. You cannot find and kill _everyone_ who is loyal to the empire. His captains and lieutenants will cause havoc wherever you go in a quest for vengeance."

Eragon grudgingly admitted Icarus was right. "So get to the point. How _do_ you win a war?" In reply the spirit merely pointed towards the city below.

"A war is won up here." Icarus replied, tapping against the side of his head. "Even if you don't want to deal with them, you will need them Eragon. A war is not won by killing the enemy leader. Galbatorix's influence and ideals will not go into the grave with him. To truly bring defeat to the empire you must win the people for you, show them what Galbatorix does is wrong and that the Varden will do better."

"But you just said I will never win the people for me."

"Correct."

"Don't tell me you are going to stop _now._ " Eragon complained. Icarus sighed.

"Fine, fine. Indeed you cannot become a hero of the people, so you must find those who _can_. A few charismatic figures who can function as a link between you and them. More importantly, who can win the people of the empire for your own cause."

Eragon sighed in defeat. Icarus was right as always. "I'm but barely a man. I don't know if I can do all of this."

"Of course you can. You have me to guide you. There is no rush. After hundreds of years delaying the Empire's defeat by one or two years isn't going to matter much. Just be on the lookout for potential. Now I will leave you to your own devices, you have a guest." Eragon was about to ask who, but Icarus – in his usual style – had already bailed on him.

' _Who do you think this mysterious guest is?'_ He asked Saphira.

' _One I think you will actually like to see.'_ She replied. What was it with people keeping him in the dark today? Instead of pressing on he merely opted to keep polishing his blade. This mystery guest would present himself soon enough.

"Mind if I join you?"

Correction, present _her_ self soon enough. Eragon was quick to catch himself. "It is good to see you up and about. Please, it is not the most comfortable spot, but the view is decent." Arya walked around and sat next to him.

"I used to come up here myself a lot in the first years of my service as courier. Tronjheim is a cold place to those who don't call it home."

"That it is." Eragon agreed. "Did they patch you up alright?"

"Nothing that a few rounds of the Ringmar couldn't fix." Arya replied.

"The Ringmar?" He questioned.

"It is an exercise elven warriors perform regularly. It improves balance, strength and flexibility. I can teach you the first level some time if you would like." There was no denying Arya was pretty, but somehow when she spoke those words it made her nigh irresistible. But she was an elf and he was... well, Eragon wasn't quite sure what he was. Mentally he hit himself. To think he had any chance with Arya would only serve to hurt him. He should stop this… whatever it was. Keep their relationship strictly professional. The smart thing to do was turn her down. Surely somebody else could teach him also.

"If it would not inconvenience you, I would be pleased to have you teach me." He replied instead. "How is your companion doing? I would have expected him to seek me out sooner. I heard the healers released him last night."

Arya snorted. "He doesn't like the idea of being saved by a 'mere human'. I think he expected one of our own people to come for us."

"You sound like you don't agree with him." Eragon replied.

"I adore faolin, I truly do. Yet in some ways he remains so… close minded. Even after so many years away from our forest." She mused.

"Be that as it may, I am not entirely human either."

"Of course, you are a rider now. If you would pardon my curiosity, I am curious, how did you find the egg? When Durza captured me I was forced to use magic to move it as far away as I could muster. Even I was not sure exactly where it would end up."

So Arya had been the one to kill him. An interesting turn of events. "I was hunting in the mountains of the spine, then suddenly Saphira's egg appeared to me in a flash of fire. I… I picked it up and took it back to the village and there she hatched for me." Eragon summarized, omitting the whole truth.

"So you named her Saphira? A fitting name. Forgive me for being sentimental about a being I carried around for so many years."

"No offence taken." Eragon assured her.

"There was… one other thing." Arya said, shifting her balance. "My other companion, Glenwing. They told me you only brought me and Faolin in, that they knew nothing about his fate. I will forever be grateful for your rescue, but I must know what happened." Eragon glanced down to the sword lying in his lap, then back to Arya. Gently he took a hold of the metal and held it out to her.

"My blade." She said in awe, taking it from his hands.

"Elvish swords have a hard time blending in with human ones. I couldn't help but notice it as I passed through the armory on my way out of Gil'ead. Here, take Faolin's too, I don't think he will be pleased to have to personally collect it for me." Eragon rose, turning his back to her and making to leave. He took the first two steps before halting and telling her the truth she already knew. "Glenwing succumbed, I was forced to kill him." He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her knuckles turn white on the stone and a shudder pass through her frame. His cue to leave.

With cat-like grace he moved down the many steps, pulled up his hood and tried to disappear into the masses of Tronjheim. It was futile as always, but at least people didn't stare too long. Thankfully he was soon rescued by a young dwarf. "Sir Eragon. Ajihad and king Hrothgar of the dwarves request your presence in the dungeons at once." He panted, out of breath from having run.

"Can you take me there?" Eragon replied, deciding that keeping a king and a general waiting was likely not a good idea.

"Of course, follow me."

' _Saphira, this dwarf is taking me to places unknown.'_ He said, following the dwarf as he waded through the crowded streets.

He felt her mind stir, had she been asleep? _'Hmm, tell me if he bites.'_ And with that she was off again. Eragon shook his head, grinning at Saphira's antics. It was promising to be an entertaining eternity with her at his side. Soon the dwarf came to a stop in front of a thick iron door.

"They are inside, sir Eragon." The dwarf said before hurrying back the way they had come from. After making sure the dwarf was well out of sight he knocked twice, opened the door and stepped inside. Inside awaited Ajihad and a dwarf in ornate armor, no doubt king Hrothgar. He was uncertain how to greet the dwarf, but thankfully it was Hrothgar himself who took the initiative.

"Eragon, my boy! I had wished to speak to you earlier but time did not permit me the opportunity." The dwarf extended his hand and Eragon shook it awkwardly. Hrothgar glanced around. "I apologize for the harsh surroundings. Usually I greet my guests in my throne room."

"You do not need a throne room to invoke respect." Eragon replied. It was the first thing that came to mind because it was true. "But all pleasantries aside, why did you call me down here?"

"I will explain in a moment when Jörmundur also arrives." Ajihad, who had by silently as Eragon and Hrothgar greeted one another, affirmed. Eragon tried not to take notice of one of the twins strung up on the far wall – who had undoubtedly gotten something to do with why he was here - while they waited. It took but a few moments until the commander of the Varden came into the room followed by, to Eragon's surprise, Angela. He briefly exchanged a glance with the herbalist but said nothing. They could talk later. What was even more surprising is that both Ajihad and Hrothgar, through openly surprised, raised no objection to her presence.

Fascinating.

To be safe, he decided, he would treat Angela as Ajihad's and Hrotghar's equal. "It appears." Ajihad began. "that Eragon did us a greater service than he realized when he first came here. He accused the twins of treason and, to my great shame, I can confirm he was right. After the first rounds of torture it quickly became clear their pretenses were false, but we only recently broke through this one's mind." He said, gesturing to the man hanging from his chains.

"And how exactly did you achieve this feat?" Angela asked.

Ajihad was quiet for a few moments. "We killed the other one. They appear to be linked somehow and afterwards it was easy to force our way into the shambles of this one's mind." The mood in the room noticeably shifted. "That, however, is not why we are here now. What we discovered inside this one's mind has far more impactful consequences. It appears Tronjheim will soon find itself under attack."

"Impossible! Our scouts would have known if an army was on our doorstep." Hrothgar immediately responded.

"Not this time, Hrothgar. An army of Urgals has amassed in the ruins of Orthiad and in three days Durza will lead them into battle." The occupants of the room remained silent and the air, whatever it had been before, was now icy and grim with dread. Angela voiced the only remaining and valid question.

"How many?"

"Unknown. Galbatorix hid that information behind wards and spells. Prying it from his mind will kill him before we get to it." Ajihad replied, equally cold.

" _Eragon, follow my lead."_ Next to the twin stood Icarus. The young rider stepped forward and stood on the other side of the twin in question. _"Place your hand on his face and pay close attention, you might need to do this yourself in the future."_ Icarus said.

"Do you value his life very much?" Eragon asked, turning to Ajihad, Hrothgar and Angela. Their silence was answer enough. He touched his hand to the man's cheek. Within him he felt a power stir. The same one that had forced one of the twins out of his mind days earlier. It rushed forward, overwhelming the other mind. Unlike last time, however, the power held and continued to force more and more power into the twin's body.

Under his fingers the man's veins began to glow an eerie, pulsating red. Something strange happened. It was as if the man's mind began to detach from his body, the tethers that held the two together snapped with the ease of thin wire. An otherworldly scream tore through the room as the twin began to shake in his chains. The metal began to glow a bright yellow where it touched his wrists and then Eragon could see into the furthest reaches of the man's mind. It was easy to find what he was looking for and he did not hesitate to reach out and take it. The moment he touched the information another power lashed out in an attempt to stop him – no doubt galbatorix's magic. Yet it stopped just short of where he 'was' inside the twin's mind.

Then it became clear what Icarus had done. The magic was cast on the man's body. Eragon had removed the bond between the body and the soul, allowing him to roam through the man's mind freely as he wished, out of reach of the magic. The moment he let go however…

Eragon averted his gaze as the man's eyes burst into flames, his body convulsing as the breath of life left him. He kept his back turned to the male, horrified at what he had done. When he looked at the three remaining living occupants of the room he expected to see disgust. What he saw, however, was nothing but grim determination and compassion. Angela stepped forward and whispered something just loud enough so only he could hear. "It was necessary, do not blame yourself."

"Four thousand." Eragon said to Ajihad and Hrothgar. "Now if you excuse me, I must go bathe myself." He hurried out of the room, only briefly stopping at the first dark corner to retch on the floor. He stood there, heaving for a few moments before he hurried back towards his chambers.

' _Oh, Eragon.'_ He could feel Saphria's sympathy through their shared bond. Tendrils of warmth embraced his mind in an attempt to comfort him.

' _I am a monster, Saphira. A ruthless, cold monster.'_ He replied, winding through the narrow corridors.

' _You did not know what was going to happen. It is Icarus who is to blame for what happened!'_ She replied angrily.

' _But I was his conduit. Any onlooker would say it was me who did that, not Icarus.'_

' _A tool is not to blame for the actions of his wielder.'_

' _So that is all I am? A tool without free will?'_

' _Eragon, that is not what I-'_

' _Just leave it.'_ Thankfully she did and quietly retreated from the forefront of his mind but she never stopped sending genuine waves of comfort and Eragon was thankful for that. He was glad to finally reach the doors to his chambers and quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind him. He rested his back against the solid oak and tried to regain his breath. It was then that he realized he was _not_ alone. Quickly his eyes shot open to see Nemeya staring back at him with those big green eyes framed by silver-blonde curls, frozen in the middle of changing the sheets on his bed.

"S- sir?" She stuttered. "I apologise, I did not expect you to return so quickly." She began to rattle apology after apology until Eragon waved her off.

"It is of no consequence. Nemeya, could you perhaps find a tub of hot water for me?"

"Right away sir!" She said, darting out of the room. Once she was gone Eragon turned to the next matter at hand.

"Icarus!" He shouted into the room. No reply. "Icarus you coward, answer me!" He waited for a few moments but all the answer he received was the flickering of the candles on the shelf off to his left. Sighing in defeat he unstrapped Umbra and Aurora and carelessly dropped them on his bed, crumping the fresh sheets under their weight. Slowly he began to remove his tunic until he remained in nothing but his breeches. At that moment Nemeya walked back in with four dwarves. Together they were shouldering a very large very hot tub of water. She briefly glanced at him but quickly averted her eyes when she saw his shirtless torso.

Not much later she had ushered the dwarves out again until only the two of them remained inside the room. When Eragon looked at her with a questioning gaze she said: "It is a servant's duty to help her master bathe."

For Eragon, a common farmer from the remote slopes of the northern mountains, it was too much. Two seasons prior he had been naught but a commoner and now he was treated like nobility. _And all because a dragon had hatched for him._

"You truly don't have to do that."

"No, I insist." She said, glancing down at the ground. Under normal circumstances Eragon would have argued with her until she had left, even if it meant letting the water cool to freezing temperatures. Today, however, was far from normal. Heck, they were under attack and he had annihilated a man to discover it.

After staring at her for a few moments he replied: "Fine, turn around." She did as asked and while she had her back turned Eragon quickly slipped out of his breeches and stepped into the water, sinking below the foamy surface so his modesty was preserved. "Alright, you may look again." He said.

When she did turn she stared at him for a few moments, her mouth slightly agape. It took all of Eragons willpower not to push his face under water and wait until he drowned. He was not worth being looked at. _'Don't be silly. She is eyeing you up!'_ Saphira remarked.

' _I'm still mad at you.'_ Eragon replied, not at all comforted by her words. A laughing Saphira retreated from his mind once more as Nemeya quickly shot into action. She took a cloth and knelt down next to the tub, wetting the fabric. She began to move it over the lean muscles on his back in slow, circular motions, causing the tense knots that had formed there to come undone. Instead of fighting it Eragon merely leaned back and decided to enjoy the ride.

When the rubbing suddenly stopped he opened his eyes. "Now that you have calmed down some, talking might actually prove fruitful."

Icarus. Of course he would pick _now_ of all moments to come again.

"You have some explaining to do." Eragon replied coolly, staring at the spirit.

"You were not ready and I should have known. I apologize." Icarus replied.

"You don't mean that."

"No, but it is what you would like to hear from me right now so I will say it anyways. What would you rather have seen, Eragon? He was a traitor, would have put a knife between your ribs given the chance. By ending him we gained information that will save tens if not hundreds of Varden soldiers. His end will mean so many others will be spared the pain of loss."

"But his end was so…"

"Violent? Yes, it is unavoidable when performing a bit of soul-searching. Unfortunately the world is not fair, Eragon. It is time to face a harsh truth. You _died_. The only one around to save you was me, an ancient entity from times past. I made you into what you are now and that comes with both perks and drawbacks." Eragon had no reply to that and Icarus was not expecting any. "Enjoy your bath, I expect you for sword practice later tonight. Furthermore, in light of recent events I have decided that teaching you some rudimentary sorcery might be prudent for the battle at hand. Goodbye Eragon."

And then Nemeya's hands were working their way over his back once more. He silently watched her work, solely focused on washing his skin and nothing else. She made no attempt at small talk, no attempt to exploit his vulnerability. Perhaps it was his turn to make a leap of fate this time.

"Nemeya?" He asked. She stopped her washing and looked him in the eyes. "How would you like to serve a purpose far, _far_ greater than chamber-maid?"

* * *

There you have it. Expect more frequent updates now that summer break is here!

* * *

Ky111 - Well, battles, death, angst and in a while, maybe a bit of romance too ;). I thought the Roran/Murtagh thing was quite the creative twist and I am glad to hear it is well recieved. Thanks for waiting around and see ya next chapter!

Tamerlorde85 - Yeah, it probably did xs. Then again, i did have to write it _three_ times and quite frankly I am done telling a story after the first time ;p. I hope this one is better! See ya next time

ThantosOG - I must admit I had a hard time getting back into it after finals (it is a far leap from enthalpy streams in dynamic unideal systems), but its people like you who keep me motivated to come back here. Thank you for all the reviews you have left so far and the feedback you give. I hope to see you around for many more chapters to come, cheers!

Neptune91 - As I have stressed countless times before, no god-like Eragon, so nofears. *cries inside* I have tried re-reading the books, but they simply don't hold the charm for me that they used to anymore. Don't get me wrong, I adore the story Paolini shaped, but his writing is simply not on point enough to the standards I have grown used to in the books I like to read myself these days. Thanks for the review though, I will make sure not to run into any and I will see you next time!

thedemonkid - Pfft, you have simply become spoiled. I aim to keep the average word count at 3k and the last chapter had 3.3K words. It probably meant it was a very easy to read chapter though! Thanks for hanging around and this story still has _not_ been abandoned yet! Till next time!

Morrigan's lover - I'm glad to hear you like my work. I plan to keep it up all the way to the end if circumstances allow it and just now I am coming out of a bit of a hectic period. I do plan on giving the spirits a backstory each to be revealed at given times throughout the story. Thanks for chipping in a review and see ya next time!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Haha, thank you for the kind words. I appreciate it. See ya around man!

booklover1798 - Well, summer break is here! So is the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed it and the next one you wont have to wait for so long. Promise!

Mad hatter - The story has not been given up on! Yet. As for Eragon, 'in one piece' might become subject to debate in a chapter or two... no spoilers though. The battle will come in a few chapters so you are bound to see a Durza-Eragon showdown then. It will be a battle with an... interesting... twist though, as always!

HomoForElmo - dude, I am Dutch. We used to build fucking HOMES out of that shit. I have decided to hide my underwear at an undisclosed location in the northern arctic - just to be safe.

rasmusemees - Well, summer is now here, so updates will indeed be more frequent, now lets get to your questions.

1) You will find out soon enough

2) Yes he will, because not even Icarus can teach him _everything_.

3) I have not decided if she can yet.

4) See answer to question 1

5) Yes, as i have said a million times by now, ExA will be the one (and only) true pairing either E or A will be seeing. It will take some effort on Eragon's behalf to win over Arya from Faolin though!

Brobe Kyant - Yes, no, maybe. It's classified. Angela will be getting a much more prominent role than she did in the books and Icarus... Well, I will not share too much on that just yet...

Maezan - I know the feeling bro. I am trying to walk the very fine line between having a strong and an overpowered/invincible Eragon. For instance I tried to counter his strength of power in this chapter by vulnerability in mind. I hope it is enough xs. If you are still around I am glad you waited another two weeks to see this chapter roll out. More badassery coming soon to theatres near you!

prophecysl4yer - I think that in maybe six or seven chapters the ExA romance will be rolling in, so you can wallow in all the fluff at that point ;p. The green egg will fulfill its role in due time. As this review only rolled in two days ago, this chapter is indeed soon-ish for you, so I hope you enjoyed it and to still see you around next time!

Gunreal - Is it? I am trying to find the right balance between character building, world building and story progression. Obviously you want me to emphasize the latter more, so which one of the two former ones should I throttle down on in your opinion? I hope you do end up liking the story, but in the end it is up to you. Hopefully till next time, though!


	13. Chapter 13

Hello people,

Welcome to the next chapter in the story. It's a rather long one this time and it _probably_ should have been two chapters (at over 6k it has the length for it), but dammit I wanna get to the good stuff already! I had a lot of loose ends to tie up so some of you will probably find the story moving a little to quickly for your tastes. Regardless I hope you will not be _too_ negative about it...

Anyways, thanks to all you readers and reviewers out there and enjoy!

* * *

It seemed strange now, reminiscing about the days prior. To anything other than the events at hand really. He had fought before, killed before, but he had never been at the spearhead of a full-on battle. Much had happened in the time between the unveiling of Durza's plan and today, although it had only been three days since. That very same evening Icarus had taken to teaching him the basics of sorcery.

" _When you use magic, you take energy from a source and shape it to your will. In doing so you reduce the value of this energy. Imagine taking a block of stone and carving a sculpture out of it. Your final product will contain less stone than the original block. Do you understand?"_

 _Eragon nodded in confirmation as Icarus stepped around him. "Sorcery is fundamentally different from magic, because it uses a different source of energy. After the sculpture has been carved, you have a lot of chippings and splinters left over, right?" Eragon nodded once again. "To the untrained eye, these splinters are waste, byproduct to be discarded. However, these shards are, in essence, still energy in a shape or form."_

" _And sorcery takes that energy and uses it?" Eragon asked._

" _Yes. However, you cannot carve something large out of little bits and pieces. Instead a sorcerer annihilates these fragments to squeeze the last remains of energy out of it. This has both advantages and drawbacks. While it provides you with a near limitless source of power, that power is, by its very nature, a destructive one. Nothing constructive will ever come out of the use of sorcery and it will never directly affect living things. That is to say, living things may be hurt or killed by proximity to whatever you create, but unlike magic, you may never work any sorcery directly on something alive."_

" _I understand."_

" _You underestimate the power of those words, Eragon. You grasp the concept, but you, just like I, will never truly understand the workings of magic or sorcery. That, however, is a conversation we can have at a later time, we are on a deadline here. Now let's get to the real work. Just like magic, sorcery has been bound to words of a long forgotten language-"_

" _But the ancient language is still actively used."_

" _Don't interrupt me. The ancient language was inherited. It would be like me forging a sword, giving it to you and you calling it your own. It's still my sword. Even the elves do not know the true name of the language they speak, strange don't you think?"_

" _Well, someone must have created the language."_

" _Yes, they were known as the grey folk. Very hard to find around these days."_

" _You mean they are not dead?"_

" _Not yet, no. Most of the world is unawares about them and it should remain as such. Seeking them out tends to end in people getting hurt or large-scale destruction. Now listen because I am running out of patience. Let's start with something simple. Try 'Liy', fire. When you utter the word, imagine pushing heat outwards in all directions from your body."_

 _Eragon readied himself and did as Icarus asked. "Liy" The result was unprecedented as the whole room lit up in a flame so bright it scorched the eye. Blisters immediately began to form on all his extremities. In the blink of an eye Icarus had moved his hands and the flames died down around them._

" _My apologies. I had not imagine you inherited my… aptitude for sorcery." Icarus said._

" _You call that an aptitude?" Eragon asked, hissing as he touched a particularly large blister on his left fore-arm._

" _As I said magic and sorcery work differently. Magicians can draw energy from different places, use clever constructions to shape it and channel it in devious ways to maximize effect, even if they are by nature weak magicians. Sorcerers draw energy from the surroundings granting virtually unlimited power, but the magnitude of effect differs from person to person. On your first try you just released energy equal to what four or five shades could hope to achieve when they work together. A feat no human has ever been known to achieve. The only beings more powerful than shades were my people so there is only one logical conclusion."_

" _Then why don't we have more sorcerers?" Eragon asked. "If they are indeed so powerful it should be a priority to seek out those with the most aptitude and enlist them in the army."_

" _Have you been listening to anything I have said? Sorcery is dangerous, destructive, only to be used as a last resort. You should not actively seek to destroy the very fabric of the universe. There is a reason all sorcerers were hunted down and killed ages ago and the only ones who still use it are shades because it's an innate ability of theirs. When two sorcerers fight the damage the cause not only to each other but the world is unimaginable. Never try to use it against Durza or any shade for that matter."_

" _When did two sorcerers last fight?" Eragon asked._

" _When I created the Hadarac Desert. You skirted the edge of it on your way here. You know how little lives there, eons upon eons after I destroyed the lush grasslands that used to be there. The power of sorcery is so scary, even Galbatorix dares not touch it. If I ever find out you pass on the knowledge I share with you here, I will make it a personal priority to see you wiped from existence, shattered to so many pieces even a skilled necromancer will fail in talking to you." Eragon didn't need to see the fire in his eyes. The venom in Icarus's voice was enough to get the message across loud and clear and it did not sound like he was joking._

" _Never and I repeat never use sorcery around shades. Ever. Now try again. Put a bit less effort into it this time."_

 _It took only two grueling more hours and many more blisters until Eragon held a controlled flame in his hand. "Very good." Icarus said, sounding genuinely pleased with his pupil. "This will conclude our lessen for today. I will share two more words with you that you can choose to practice on your own, should you so wish, before the battle. 'Ifsy', to break and 'Xerot', to remove. Both are not terribly hard to master. Be careful though. Once you leave here you will not be practicing in a controlled environment. Any wounds out there are burdens you will have to shoulder during the battle itself."_

 _Not that the pain would hinder him much. Icarus had trained him well._

 _However, instead of drifting off to sleep as usually happened when Icarus was done with him, he found himself surrounded by the bright white chamber where the spirits would spend their last moments before becoming part of him forever. Before him stood a woman, small but regal. "Hello, Eragon." She said._

" _Hello." He replied._

 _She sighed and walked forward, stepping around him as if sizing up a soldier. "It would be so easy to break you, make you do something so difficult you will never succeed. It is what you deserve for taking my son from me." She let that hang in the air for a bit. "He was so young, so innocent. He did not deserve what the world did to him. Did not deserve to be erased from existence. My brave young Gabriel." Eragon could hear the longing in her words._

" _The desire to make you pay, it is so great. Alas, I am selfish." She added, coming to a halt in front of him. "The pain of losing a child, it is one I hope even you will never have to bear. Even now I spend every moment wishing I could rejoin him. Now there is only one way out for me, so I will not draw blood or ask countless days, no. Instead I want you to think. Think about what you have done and what you will do still. My name is Elena Simonsdaughter and this is my first test. Imagine you are in a dark room, how do you get out? Good luck." This time when he blinked he found himself staring at the ceiling of his bedroom instead._

He had spent most of the night contemplating the answer without much fruition and come morning it had taken Brom considerable effort to force breakfast down his throat. It was not much later he stumbled across Angela the herbalist. He would have liked to think it had been a chance encounter, but he was starting to believe that with her, 'chance' was a subjective term. To his pleasant surprise, however, she had been much more forthcoming with answers than Icarus, though the two clearly knew each other.

"So we meet again." He'd said when she appeared alongside him in one of Tronjheim's many corridors.

"Indeed we do, well met Eragon. I heard your journey here was far more interesting than mine. Walk with me, I would hear of your travels since we last spoke."

"It was not as eventful as you make it appear. I was merely chased all the way here. Hit with the occasional arrow but nothing particularly noteworthy. What I find far more interesting is why you are here. It's a far leap from a herbalist's shop in Teirm."

"I have my reasons… but suffice to say, I like to be around when interesting events happen. What you did to that magician yesterday has proven my instincts correct yet again."

"Have you seen many interesting events?" Eragon asked.

"That is dependent on how you define interesting. Some were very interesting, others only interesting to me. What did the elf have to say about you gutting her friend? I imagine it didn't make for very good dinner conversation."

He made a point out of ignoring her sarcastic comment. "How do you know about that?" Eragon asked. It was information he had shared only with Brom and Arya.

"Word travels fast, if you know how to listen… Red."

"Excuse me?"

"Just something I have been contemplating. Perhaps I will share my findings with you at a later date. Your elf came to me first, wanted to know where you were. It just so happened Solembum has kept an eye on you from time to time." So the were-cat had traveled with Angela to this place as well.

From the tone of her voice it was apparent she did not like him digging this way and asking her why everybody seemed to respect her so much was likely to wield… unsatisfactory results. Instead he tried changing the topic. "So apparently you know Icarus." Eragon said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing horribly.

"Hmm, interested in another's secrets, are we now? How terribly rude."

"Willing to share any?"

"Sure. See that giant statue over there? They say it was carved by Urthond Stonefist, but in truth most of the work was done by his brother." Angela replied.

"Secrets about Icarus." Eragon added, exasperated.

"Those secrets are worth more gold than the world contains. You have nothing to barter with. Why should I share those secrets with you of all people?"

"Because Icarus uses me as a puppet and I have no clue why?"

"Well at least he is honest." Angela muttered under her breath. "Most of them are not mine to share, but I shell tell you one as a token of good faith. Icarus's greatest weapon was not his magic or his blades. It was not his breathtaking wit or sharp mind, no. It was his voice."

"His voice?" Eragon asked unbelievingly.

"There is a… tale. This supposedly happened when Icarus was already well on way to madness. Two cities were about to go to war and cause unimaginable bloodshed and famine. He has always had a soft spot for children so to 'protect' them from harm he sang to the adult population of both cities and made them walk into the ocean and drown themselves. It is said his song was both as breathtaking as it is commanding."

"What became of the children?" Eragon asked.

"The story goes they died of grief." He made no point of asking where she 'heard' this 'tale', knowing she would not answer the question anyways.

"So where are you going to go now that war is coming here?" Angela gave him a deadly stare.

"Shame on you, Eragon. You make presumptions simply because I am female. I am going nowhere. I dare any Urgal to come disturb my morning tea in two days." The way she said that almost convinced Eragon and the only reason he didn't push was because he had the feeling Angela was not below slipping some awful type of weed into his food to exact her revenge. The look in her eyes told him she was also done talking to him and he gracefully took his leave.

Instead he got to the next task at hand, which was to summon Nemeya to his chambers. Not much later the girl arrived, her usual simple green dress flowing around her ankles. _"Who can function as a link between you and them."_ Icarus's words echoed through his mind.

"Have you thought about my proposal?" Eragon asked.

"I… All I have ever known was to be a servant. I do not know what you see in me, but in the short amount of time we spent together I learned you are wise beyond your years and I shall trust your judgement. If you deem me fit, I will do whatever I can." She said. If only she knew it wasn't _him_ who was wise beyond his years…

"You might come to regret those words…" He said quietly, for he knew he was about to turn her life upside down. "We have to find you something more suitable. If you are to become the figurehead of this effort, that," He said, gesturing to her dress, "will not do." He walked by her. "Come, we have a tailor to find."

"But we don't have anybody in the Varden who can arrange something on such short notice!" She yelled after him.

He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. "I am Eragon, the last free rider of Alagaesia, I'm sure I can pull some strings. Come now." He was already around the corner by the time she began sputtering her half-hearted reply. Not much later he heard her lighter, quicker footsteps catch up with his own.

"Where are we going?"

"A… newly acquired friend. Tell me, have you ever fought before?"

"I used to throw pebbles at noblewomen when I was still living on the streets." She replied.

"Perfect, we will get you a bow and arrow. That way you will never have to actually get close to the fighting to appear like you are joining in. Not in this battle at least."

"Sir, I don't think this is a very good idea-"

"Call me Eragon. We are to become colleagues of sorts after all." He arrived at the double doors that separated him from his destination. He raised his hand and knocked thrice. It took a few moments but eventually a dwarf emerged.

"King Hrothgar is busy." He said.

"I expected nothing less of the king. Tell him Eragon is here and that if the matters at hand are not too pressing he would like a moment."

The dwarf gave him a judgmental look before retreating back inside. Patiently he waited next to Nemeya. He was almost starting to believe the dwarf had failed to deliver his message at all when the doors opened again. This time nobody less than Hrothgar himself emerged.

"Yes, Eragon. I don't have much time in light of the battle to come so keep it brief." Hrothgar spoke.

"I was hoping someone as mighty and powerful as you would happen to have a spare suit of light armor lying around. Something ornate and eye-catching."

He seemed both pleased and amused with the praising words. "Aye, I might have such a thing, but I don't see why you would want to stand out more than you already do. A dragon is rather hard to miss."

"It's for her." Eragon clarified, gesturing to Nemeya.

"Ah… Excuse me for asking, but… why?"

"Are you another one of those condescending men who think we are but pretty ornaments? I expected more of a king." Nemeya spoke to his surprise. For all the submissiveness she'd shown around him Hrothgar appeared to spark an ire in her that proved Eragon's instincts correct. Eragon held his breath. To insult a king was a capital offence. Even he as a farm boy knew as much. Hrothgar however appeared to appreciate such ferociousness.

"I see. We will need many more of your ilk if we are to survive the times ahead. I will send someone for you. Now if you will excuse me, I have a battle to plan and a city to evacuate." Hrothgar said, bidding his farewell and retreating back into his throne room. Eragon finally released the breath he had been holding, glad it had gone so well.

"Alright, next stop is the armory. Follow me please." As a former hunter, Eragon knew what to look for. Most of the bows, however, proved to be next to useless. Eragon didn't know who the bowyer in this upstart cave was, but he would have a word with him, maybe two. Most of the weapons proved to bend unevenly, which was absolutely detrimental to the arrow's flight path. Others were hardened improperly and some were simply not even straight. It took a good two hours of searching until he found an acceptable bow for Nemeya. It was a little large on her, but the weapon itself didn't have any immediate defects.

With her new-found weapon he sent the girl off with the dwarf that appeared carrying Hrothgar's orders and told her to find him once she was done. Just in time as well, because he had been invited to join Ajihad later that afternoon. While normally he would not have been looking forward to it, at this moment the meeting played right into his hands. After all, his plans for Nemeya were far from complete. He was pleasantly surprised to see much of Tronjheim's defense had already been planned. The dwarves had shared their knowledge of the elaborate network of tunnels below the city and they had devised the most likely routes the Urgals would take.

"We have to collapse the tunnels, force their hand." Eragon said.

"If we do, they will know we are aware of their plans. They might retreat and return with more forces and a new plan. One we are not aware of." Jörmundur said in reply.

"Durza is arrogant. I think he will attack regardless. Remember that even though we know what they are up to, they still have the advantage in numbers over us."

"Eragon is right." Ajihad said. "I crossed blades with him once, managed to put a scratch in his while I was at it. Durza will strike no matter what we do."

Arya and Faolin who stood as far away from Eragon as they could, avoiding all eye contact, remained silent. Ajihad and Jörmundur took it as their consent to the plan. Somewhere deep down it hurt, because, Eragon realized, he didn't want Arya to be a stranger to him. It was that damned longing, that way she moved her head so her hairs tumbled in front of her eyes. Captivating. "There is one more thing." Eragon said. "A request of sorts."

"Go ahead." Ajihad said.

"I need to put someone in a place where they are seen, but safe. It's an… experiment of mine. If you can do it I will owe you a favor."

Ajihad appeared to think for a second. "Send him to me on the eve of battle. I might just have something." He replied.

"He is a she." Eragon replied.

"Even better. I think she will find herself in good company then." He replied mysteriously with a twinkle in his eyes. "What will you do during the fight, Eragon?"

"My aim is to find and kill Durza as fast as possible. The Urgals will be demoralized if we manage to sever the head of the snake." He was not about to unveil the true reason behind killing Durza as soon as possible.

"Are you confident you can combat him?" Ajihad asked.

The hours he'd spent with Icarus every day, becoming stronger, better, made him confident. He was much better now than when he last fought the shade and he was fairly certain that in the heat of battle he could force the shade to make a mistake he could capitalize on. "Very."

That evening Tronjheim emptied. Eragon watched from his usual spot high above as women and children, accompanied by a few soldier to ensure a peaceful and uneventful journey to the surrounding valleys. Later when he walked through the city to return to his chambers it was a ghost town. The silence was only interrupted by the odd shaking of the ground – another tunnel collapsed. A few soldiers lingered here and there, he even saw Arya, who quickly disappeared when she saw him, but without the merchants praising their wares or the beggars on the corners it just felt wrong.

He was glad to finally be able to close the door behind him. Already inside was Nemeya. The dwarves had truly transformed her into a masterpiece. "How do you feel?" Eragon asked, sizing up her new appearance.

She straightened her leather corset, unwrinkling the embroidered golden eagle on her torso. "Slightly sick I think." She replied.

"I suppose that's better than feeling nothing at all. I know this is all very sudden, but you must understand we are on a deadline. You _must_ be ready in two days. Besides, it's better to just get it over with right away, isn't it?"

"I suppose." She replied uncertainly.

"Do you feel ready for target practice?"

"No?" Nemeya almost sank to her knees.

"Brilliant, take an arrow and knock it. You are aiming for that vase." Eragon said pointing towards a particularly ugly piece of pottery he had contemplated getting rid of for days now. She looked at him with uncertain eyes and he nodded. Gingerly she placed an arrow on the string, pulled it taut, looked away, closed her eyes and with the cutest 'iep' released.

The unguided projectile completely missed the vase and put a rather large cut in an expensive-looking painting. "How did I do?" Nemeya asked, eyes still closed.

"Not bad, although admittedly there is some margin for improvement." Eragon replied. "Get another arrow ready please." She did as he asked. "Alright, hold the bow higher, yes just like that. Now turn your body sideways. You must be parallel with the arrow. Feet at a straight angle, back straight. Look down the shaft of the arrow. Yes, very good. Fire when ready."

She released her second arrow and Eragon watched as it veered down, straight into the crackling hearth. "You need to hold your posture after you let go. Here, let me show you." She was quick to hand over the weapon. Eragon reached over her shoulder and pulled another arrow out of her quiver. "Alright, watch carefully. First, correct stance." He prepared himself, holding the bow aimed perfectly at the ground. "Second, draw." He lifted the weapon and pulled the string taut. "Breathe in and release your breath with the arrow." Eragon released the arrow and watched as it flew true, hitting the vase square in the neck and shattering it into a thousand fragments. "Now you try it." He said, handing the bow back to Nemeya. He quickly found another disposable piece of ceramic and placed it amidst the shards of the last one.

It took her another fifteen attempts, but eventually she managed to hit her mark with the satisfying sound of breaking pottery. "I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this!" She said, excitement clear in her voice.

"That's good. You can continue practice in the archery range tomorrow. You know enough not to make a complete fool out of yourself. Tomorrow night you must find Ajihad, he will give you further instructions."

"What are you going to do now?" Nemeya asked with genuine curiosity.

"Continue my own training." Eragon replied with a slightly darker expression.

"You sound as if you are not looking forward to it."

"Unlike with you, most of the time my teacher is pain. A crude method, but effective." Eragon heard her footsteps retreat and the door close behind him as he closed his eyes, allowing the blackness to overcome him as he did every night.

" _Icarus, will you tell me about Elena and Gabriel?" Eragon asked. Sword practice could wait. Time didn't pass in this place anyways._

 _To his surprise Icarus chose to indulge him. "What would you like to know?"_

" _Their story. Gabriel was fairly much beyond logic and Elena is only angry at me."_

 _Icarus was quiet for a moment, contemplating. "Magic wasn't always as tame as it is now. Once it was an erratic, fickle thing. This was especially true in the first transitional phases after the grey folk had attempted to bind the magic of the land to their language. The fundamental reason elves and dragons warred in the first place, is because that magic was channeled through the dragons and – in all fairness – did cause a lot of unnecessary and cruel harm._

 _Although elves and humans rarely intermingle, it was not such a rare thing back when the elves were not yet immortal in the way they claim to be now. One of the dragon hunters, Eilred by name, met Elena on one of his hunts. She was a simple farm girl from one of the northern villages. It was love at first sight, if you believe in such a thing, and he took her with him into the forests where eventually they wed and started a family._

 _Then, one day, Eilred discovered the nest of Unthran, the alpha of a rather powerful dragon coven. He did what he was trained to do and killed Unthran's mate and hatchling in their vulnerability. When Unthran found out, he was beyond reason. His cry of agony was heard all the way down in what is now Surda. Unthran tracked down Eilred's home and exacted his revenge._

 _He did not kill Elena and her son, Gabriel, for that would have been far too quick a punishment. Instead he forced Eilred to watch as his wife and son slowly began to fade into nothingness."_

" _I don't understand." Eragon said._

" _Nobody quite does. Somehow he… 'uprooted' their physical forms. For instance, right now you know where you are. I can touch you, hurt you, move you. Now imagine if you are uncertain whether you are in front of me or behind me. Or perhaps above me. With much effort Eilred managed to contain their fluctuating forms inside their home – the one Gabriel locked you up in as well. He was too young to understand what was being done to him. Too young to understand why his father did the things he did._

 _Tirelessly he worked, trying to find a way to save his family. With each passing day, however, his wife and son further destabilized, their presence stretched out over unnatural amounts of space. I cannot defend what Eilred did next, but in a way, I can understand his thinking. Imagine loving someone who is on the other side of a crevasse that stretches endlessly either way. Never able to touch, to love. At times the other person may even be beyond speech because she is physically_ not there.

 _After years he finally began to realize there was no way to undo what Unthran did. Instead he sealed his house with magic, hid it behind an illusion and walked away, unable to release what remained of the family he had once loved. Something Elena never forgave him for. She clung to the only reminder she had of her former love: her son Gabriel. Over time they both learned to exert a certain amount of control over their curse, each in their unique way, until finally they managed to escape Eilrad's cage._

 _No doubt they had hoped for a peaceful end, but their spirits were so warped they were forced to remain on Alagaesia. In a final act of vengeance Elena sought out her former lover and literally tore him apart before retreating into a sort of hibernation with the only thing she held dear – her son."_

" _Do you have any idea what will happen to me once I master Elena's powers?" Eragon asked._

" _There is no way to tell. You will be inheriting Unthran's magic in one form or another. How it manifests even I dare not speculate, though it will no doubt be somewhat similar to what Gabriel gave you."_

 _Icarus prevented Eragon from mulling over the story too much as he spent the next six hours drilling him into the ground. The punishment was unrelenting until Eragon lay on the floor, beaten black and blue. "We will continue tomorrow." Icarus said, before releasing his hold on Eragon._

 _Now that he lay there in darkness, something began to dawn on him. He realized what Elena asked of him was not some riddle, but to put himself in her shoes. To find a way out of Eilrad's confines. Imagine you are in a dark room, how do you get out?_

" _Stop imagining." He whispered._

" _Very good." Elena emerged from the shadows._

" _Not that it helps very much, but I'm sorry for what happened to you and your son."_

" _I don't need your pity." Was the gruff reply._

" _No," Eragon said, choosing his words carefully, "but what happened should not have happened and I'm sorry that I could happen in the first place."_

" _Maybe there is some hope for you after all." She said, getting down beside him. "The last part of my test isn't as much a test as it is a request."_

" _Continue." Eragon said._

" _Whether you accept or decline, I am erased from the face of this earth regardless. The only way I can ensure our lesson remains unforgotten is to give it to you in its entirety. I would be… humbled," she forced out that word, "if you would share my memories and keep them safe. All of them."_

" _Of course." Eragon replied without hesitation._

" _When you wake up, you will feel strange, restless. This is only natural. When you have eaten breakfast, try willing yourself to the other side of the room and see what happens. Elena said as the blackness around them turned a pale, indiscernible white._

" _Your sacrifice will be honored." Eragon replied, knowing these were Elena's final moments._

" _Then there is nothing left to say. May you bring peace back to this world, Eragon." As those words echoed through his mind sleep overtook him._

It was not until now he began to grasp the full scope of Elena's pain and it almost sent him crawling on the ground. _"Focus, Eragon. Concentrate on the good. There is always good between the bad."_ Icarus said.

' _Eragon, what is going on?'_ Saphira asked, worry clear in her voice.

" _But I cannot find any."_ He shot back at Icarus. Instead of more words he felt a memory push to the forefront. It was strange to feel a body not his own, but the new-born child he held close gave a comfort unlike any other. _All of them_ Elena had said and she had not been lying. He proceeded to explain what had happened since last night to Saphira who listened patiently with a combination of worry and interest.

' _I hate it that they can do such things to you and that I'm powerless to help you.'_ She lamented.

' _You help me as much as you can and I am thankful for that.'_ Eragon replied, trying to comfort her.

' _But it's not enough! It will never be enough.'_

' _Stop diminishing yourself, it is unbefitting. You are Saphira, the last free dragon, queen of the skies! Whatever they throw our way we can best it. Together.'_ He said in an attempt to calm her down. _'Just because these things happen to me doesn't mean you will lose me. I'm fine now. A little… choked on memories, but fine. Check my mind if you don't believe me.'_

He felt her gentle presence wash over his. _'You- yes. You are right, of course. It's just that…'_

' _I know. I would feel the same way had our roles been reversed.'_

Elena's words proved to be true. He indeed felt funny, borderline sick come morning. Although the immense headache he had also might have played a role. It took him a full hour to somewhat separate his own entity from the maelstrom of memories in his head again.

He met up with Brom as per usual and they discussed their plans for the days to come. Brom would not fight in the frontlines but instead command the forces from the rear alongside Ajihad. "Brom, I think I might have… gained something." Eragon said when they finished their meal.

"Really? What did Icarus give you?"

"We are about to find out." Eragon said, eyeing the far corner of the room. He willed his being to go there, exist in that space instead of this one. A brief, nauseatingly pure blackness shrouded his eyes and then he was looking back at Brom who had an incredulous look in his eyes.

"You just moved." He said.

"It does appear that way." Eragon said, inspecting his body for hurts or blemishes.

"I mean, you disappeared in a black mist over here and immediately reappeared over there."

"Thank you Elena." Eragon muttered under his breath. Immediately he noticed the hunger from before breakfast had resurfaced and his stomach grumbled, ready for seconds. This new power, whatever it was, seemed to consume energy at a phenomenal rate. No wonder she told him to eat breakfast first.

He spent the remainder of the day practicing his blade skills and – in seclusion – the sorceries Icarus had taught him. At evening he saw Nemeya off. Together they arrived at Ajihad's chambers and after the guard announced their presence, they were allowed inside. Next to Ajihad stood a woman, almost the same age as Nemeya, perhaps a few years older, with that same fair dark complexion as Ajihad.

"This is my daughter Nasuada." Ajihad said. "She too is a wild creature, unwilling to be kept safe. As her father however I can naturally not allow any harm to come to her, but since she _is_ a capable fighter I have assigned her to courier duty. Nothing is as important as making sure orders reach the farthest corners of the battlefield. Nasuada has given her consent, so your servant can join her." Ajihad said.

"I'm not sure that-" Nemeya began. Eragon elbowed her, shutting her up.

"She would be delighted." He replied in her stead.

"Then we shall leave them to it. Come, Eragon. I would be delighted to have you join me for a walk." Eragon agreed and together they walked the now mostly empty perimeter they had worked so hard to establish the last three days. "Blood will flow here come morn."

"Such sacrifices must be made if we are to turn the tide tomorrow."

"It's unusual to hear such cold words from someone as young as you."

 _That's because I aged thirty years over night._ Eragon thought, but instead he said "I have seen the evil the empire can do. There is no line they will not cross. If we are to face such atrocities there is no use in keeping up appearances. They send the Urgals because they are expendable. All we can do is hold the lines at the lowest possible cost."

"Aye." Was all Ajihad had to offer. "You should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"I do not need to sleep right now. Couldn't if I wished to." Eragon replied. "I will keep guard tonight. It is you who should rest. A weary commander will not do tomorrow morning."

"Alas. Sleep has never managed to find me either on the eve of battle. Fear, it is a powerful and disabling thing. A little fear is useful, but too much and the mind stops and the instincts take over. I don't fear death. I fear the looks in the eyes of those who lose those dear to them. Those who I failed. Hence, before every battle I walk the lines, inspect every trench, every stake. Will you join me?"

Together they walked the battlefield, fixing small mistakes wherever they found them while the world slept. Too soon he found himself staring down the dark tunnel ahead while the first rays of sunlight crept through the cracks in the rock high above them. To his left and right nervous soldiers made their final preparations. Saphira, who had risen an hour earlier, stood behind him, ready to take flight. The ground under their feet rumbled. Sunlight refracted off a blade in the darkness. "Here they come."

* * *

ThantosOG - Well, I took one cliffhanger and replaced it with the next ;p. The relationship stuff will start to happen in something like three chapters, so I'm really looking forward to that. Hope this chapter was bearable and see ya next time!

kY111 - Yeah, I figured that with all the psychological stress Eragon receives from Icarus inc. the social pressure might be a bit too much so I figured out a way to both make it work and add another interesting component to the story. We will see how the battle goes down, I plan some more interesting plot-twists for y'all and you are probably gonna hate me for it. See ya next time though!

thedemonkid - Did avatar have twins? Well, I didn't get the idea from there. The whole eyes burning-out thing was more ghost-rider inspired if anything. It was supposed to be an original idea though ;p.

crooker - I did some moooreeee, pl0x like it.

ziphon - Wohoo, appearantly I write good enough for people to recommend it! (milestone-get). Where Eragon gets his power from is explained in this chapter, so it's a little redundant to repeat it I think, but I'm glad to see you interested in my work and hope you are still around for this chapter! See ya round.

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Whenever I am not on vacation, yes it does.

Guest - For the duration of summer and whenever I am not on vacation, I will try my best.

sprtgln - How is that in any way bad news? I need more people in my slave army. Well, you found out what the leap was so I hope you are not disappointed xs. I will see you next time!

Mad hatter - Pfft. ExA interaction... I haven't finished pulling Eragon through the wringer yet. Don't worry though, it will make the ExA all the sweeter when it _does_ happen. The two of them will spar... in time... in their own strange, convoluted way... I'm not gonna spoiler anything just yet. I'm happy to hear you are coming to terms with Faolin being alive. I was about to suggest a really good shrink for you ;).

Watchman1 - I'm sorry, I feel this chapter won't cure your ExA cravings either. You have to understand though that with so many things to get sorted out the space for such luxuries is rather limited. My plans for Nemeya are far more sinister than you will ever imagine (muhaha). More Icarus insight was provided though in this chapter, so I hope that compensates for something. See ya next time!

Tamerlorde85 - Arya will learn what she did to the poor boy in time... when she is ready to go full feels-were-had style instead of grieving over her dead friend.

dragonfighter11 - I know... I really wanna! But my readers made me keep him alive :/. I suppose I will have to come up with a much more twisted way to end him now to punish them for making me do it. ExA is coming soon-ish, though!

booklover1798 - A purpose that is both awesome and dangerous, Nemeya.

Finally An Available Username - Well, I must admit that even though after twelve chapters this is a bit sudden, I am happy to hear some supported criticism. All I can say really is that I wish you had come to me earlier. I read all my reviews and take their words to hard and had you spoken up sooner I might have been able to mold the story a different way. The reason Eragon was puking didn't have so much to do with the fact he killed him, but that he had erased the man's spirit, meaning all signs of him literally ceased to exist. A more true death than just a sword through the heart so to say. As for the love triangle, I do my best - as with all my writing - to make it sound logical and constructive towards the story as a whole.


	14. Chapter 14

Hello folks. I found a four hour gap to finish up chapter 14 in. "Vacation" is a rather loose term for running around all day in my family, so I don't know when the next one will be around. Enjoy yourselves, though!

* * *

' _How many of them are there?'_ Eragon asked, slashing his way through another platoon of Urgals. Saphira flew closely overhead, raking through the enemy ranks with her razor sharp talons.

' _Plenty more from what I can see.'_ She replied. In the distance the piercing sound of horns went up, signaling the Varden's retreat to the next line of defence.

' _The battle is not faring well for us.'_

' _Maybe you should employ some of that sorcery Icarus taught you.'_

' _I cannot do that until we have disabled Durza.'_

' _Screw what Icarus said. People are dying-'_

' _No. We have to find Durza first. It's a power I can barely control even when there is nobody interfering.'_

Saphira mentally snorted as she tore an urgal in half with her strong jaws. _'Fine. Just know that I think it's stupid not to use your claws when you have them.'_ Eragon moved through the melee like a deadly whirlwind as he moved back towards the next line of defense. An arrow narrowly missed him and when he turned to face the archer he saw one of the Varden. Eragon made a colorful swear before grabbing him and pulling him along towards the remainder of their defenses.

The line itself was a mess. The Varden, in full unorganized retreat, were coming in from all directions. Any attempt at the formation of a shield line was thoroughly disrupted and the Urgals, in quick advance, would surely trample them once they got here. Eragon thought. What would Icarus do?

"You!" He shouted to a number of soldier who were running towards them. "Move to the side. Entry points will be there and there! The rest of you, form up as you have been taught. Shields in front, spears behind that and archer behind those!" It took a few harsh words, some forceful bashing and shouting until his voice was shrill, but eventually the Varden once again had something vaguely resembling a defense.

' _Uh oh.'_ Eragon almost didn't want to know.

' _What do you see?'_ He asked.

' _Durza. He has found his former prisoners, it appears.'_

' _Goddammit.'_ He muttered. _'Any chance you can pick me up?'_

' _Not in between of all those soldiers. There is a tower behind you. Climb it and wait for me.'_

"Alright, I need to go on! Don't you dare let me see you break that formation!" He shouted to the soldiers around him before heading to the tower. Skipping every other step he ran to the top and stepped out into the open. Three archers controlled the battlefield from above, shooting arrows at targets of opportunity wherever they arose. Quickly he instructed them to cease fire so Saphira could come in.

' _When I say jump, jump.'_ She said. Eragon looked around but didn't see his dragon anywhere. _'Three, two, one, jump!'_ Had it been anybody else, he wouldn't have jumped. But his dragon he would trust without hesitation. For a moment he was falling, the ground rushing at him at breathtaking speed. Then, in a flash of blue she was there. The landing knocked the air out of his lungs and he swore he heard a few bones groan under the stress, but he was firmly lodged in the saddle. Saphira immediately banked and headed east. It was a strange experience, to be flying overhead so calmly while underneath them the battle was in full swing.

' _Do you think they make armor for dragons?'_ Saphira asked, craning her neck so she could inspect her wings. They were riddled with holes where arrow after arrow had torn through the thin fabric-like membrane.

' _Does it hurt much?'_

' _A dull ache, but annoying nonetheless.'_

' _I will inform with Ajihad after the battle.'_ They flew together in silence. High above them, the sun shone through the deep red ruby of the Isidar Mitrhim, the Star Saphire. Hrothgar had told him about it. The gem, sixty paces across, had been carved to resemble a rose in full bloom. The crowning glory of dwarven architecture was created long ago during the Age of Herran by a craftsman named Dûrok Ornthrond. Supposedly he had spent every waking hour slaving over the piece, losing his wife, family and friends in the process. When his work was complete he'd lost the will to live and dropped dead.

' _Look, there they are.'_ Eragon lifted himself off the saddle in an attempt to see for himself. Faolin, it appeared, had already been dispatched. His crumpled form was tucked neatly in a crater at the very edge of the open space in the middle of Tronjheim. Around him a puddle of his own blood had already formed, fed by a profusely bleeding head-wound.

Some twenty feet away Arya was doing a surprisingly good job of holding her own against the shade. She moved with a feline grace that was both beautiful and deadly, her blade moving around her like an extension of her body.

He doubted he had ever seen a more skilled swordsman… woman. Then again, there was Icarus.

" _And yourself. At this point it is nigh certain you will beat her if you cross blades with her. Perhaps you are not as fast or as strong, but over the last weeks you have become a formidable opponent. Just don't be disheartened that it doesn't show against someone with centuries of experience over you."_ Icarus said.

And maybe that was a good thing, because despite all her deadly grace Arya was clearly on the losing hand. _"I thank you for the kind words. Any last advice?"_

" _Shades are driven by anger. He will no doubt insult you, joust at you. Keeping your calm will serve you better than you can imagine. Do not be scared to use underhanded tactics. A fight against a shade was never a fair fight to begin with._ _Once again I cannot stress enough, do not attempt to use sorcery. Only harm will come of it."_

In an attempt to take some of the pressure off Arya he unholstered his bow, knocked an arrow and took aim. With precision Alisadne would have been proud of he managed to embed it in Durza's shoulder.

The shade however appeared to be annoyed by it rather than actually hindered by it. With a cry of rage he threw Arya across the courtyard and turned to face them. Eragon could not hear what he said, but he saw Durza's lip move with furious speed. A crackling red orb began to take shape. With a piercing cry he threw it into the sky, hurdling towards Eragon and Saphira at a scary speed.

He didn't have to ask, for he was her partner in body and mind. Eragon _knew_ there was no way for Saphira to dodge the deadly projectile. His mind raced, searching for a solution. Abandoning her was no option, hence he reached for the only thing that could possibly do the trick.

Gathering power about him he willed them both about ten feet up and focused his entire being on it. _'Eragon, what are you-'_

The globe of power was blindingly close now, the crackling edges making his hair stand on end. Then they were both encased in blackness. The drain of power was enormous, sucking the air and will to live out of him at an alarming rate. Then he was breathing air again. Saphira's wings fluttered about as she tried to regain her bearings. Durza's magic passed harmlessly underneath them. _'Could you warn me next time you are about to do something like that?'_ Saphira asked.

Eragon was too beat to reply, his hands gripped firmly on the saddle. He was fighting the blackness that seeped in at the edges of his vision, trying to stay rooted in the here and now. _'Eragon?'_

' _I'm fine, give me but a moment.'_ He replied, trying to catch his breath.

" _Don't try to engage an opponent like that, it denotes lack of control. You blew your element of surprise for nothing and correcting your mistake the way you did was reckless."_ Icarus said. It was silent for a few moments. " _But necessary. His spell would have caused some nasty damage. He used a multiple word structure to weave a spell that indirectly causes decay. You would have been mostly necrotic flesh in mere minutes."_

" _Good to know."_ Eragon replied.

Durza, who had only very briefly been stalled by Eragon's antics, had already resumed his relentless assault on the elf. The rooftops came closer as Saphira descended to the ground. _'We are here, are you ready?'_ she asked, worry clear in her voice.

' _No, but it's now or never.'_

' _Go kick his ass.'_ With shaky legs Eragon launched himself off the saddle, bracing himself for impact. He rolled, stalling his forward momentum as fast as he could and skidding to a stop perhaps a pace from a solid stone wall.

Not far off he could hear the swift clangs of Durza's and Arya's blades hitting one another and not wasting any time he broke into a sprint. Icarus was right; moving both him and Saphira had been a great drain on his strength as even now his muscles felt shaky and worn. Perhaps engaging Durza at this time was a bad idea, but he had no choice. Arya had to be saved and if he couldn't beat the shade, nobody could.

Eragon dove around the corner, unsheathing Umbra and Aurora once again, with a flourish he whipped the steel around and prepared to engage. Durza and Arya were still locked in mortal combat, hacking away at one another at unperceivable speed.

With Aurora extended he charged into the fray, intercepting Durza's sword before it could make a nasty cut across Arya's arm. His eyes briefly crossed hers and he wasn't sure what he saw in them, but perhaps one could call it gratefulness. Eragon tried to follow up with Umbra but the shade was faster, kicking him in the gut and sending him sprawling across the ground. "Ah, it's you again. I knew we would be seeing one another soon." Durza said mockingly. When he made to come to him, Arya managed to slice her blade across Durza's offhand wrist. Not at all bothered by it he said. "Just one moment please, I will get to you in a moment."

With serpentine deadliness he knocked Arya's sword aside, throwing her guard wide open as she stumbled back, twisting in an unnatural manner. In horror Eragon watched as Durza's blade came down, slicing straight through flesh and bone. Arya's skin parted as water, exposing bare bone where Durza carved a grotesque cut down her spine. With a piercing cry Eragon would remember for the remainder of his days she went down, sword clattering from her hand. "A pity, I was just starting to have fun." Durza said, looking down at the beaten elf. Eragon struggled to his feet, raising his blades once again. "Do you have any idea how much you hurt my feelings back in Gil'ead?" the shade asked, flourishing his sword and bringing it to a stop in front of himself. "That was an awfully rude thing of you to do. Luckily I get to exact revenge now."

Durza lashed out, making Eragon scramble to block the blow. His arms felt weak, unable to hold the force of the hit, but he pushed through it ensuring he would not lose his balance like Arya did. Swiftly he moved Aurora to block Durza's assault. Three clangs of metal on metal reverberated around the plaza before Eragon managed to resume his offensive blows. By sheer luck he managed to get in a good hit on the pommel of Durza's sword, knocking the sword away and allowing him to make an uppercut with Umbra across the shade's chest.

Durza seemed truly angry now, lashing out with overwhelming strength. Eragon's weakened body could not withstand the assault and soon he found himself skidding over the smooth pavement with a nasty cut across his cheekbone and another down his arm. "So pathetic. So weak!" Durza exclaimed. "I should strike you down right now, but you don't deserve a warrior's end. No, your death will be slow and painful and degrading, spent in the dungeons of Urû'baen." Suddenly Saphira was there again, perched on the rooftops overlooking the battleground. Her jaws opened wide and she breathed fire!

If Durza hadn´t been angry before, he sure was now, the fringes of his robes still smoldering from the fire. Not bothering to suppress his voice he began shouting twisted a malign words unleashing a sorcerous torrent of death and destruction around him. When he saw one of the bolts headed straight for Saphira he knew there was only one last thing he could do. Throwing Icarus´s words into the wind, he did the unthinkable.

"Xerot" He whispered, willing the thought towards Durza's sorcery with all the strength he could muster. The bolt of energy stopped in midair where it bean crackling and twisting unpredictably.

" _You idiot! Search for cover, quick!"_ Icarus shouted

' _Saphira, hide!'_ Eragon mentally added, struggling to his feet and diving into a nearby house. Not a moment too soon either, for virtually immediately the destabilized sorcery exploded in a violet miasma of poisonous energy.

Most of the houses in the direct vicinity were blown apart as a crackling lance shot into the sky, connecting right to the center of the Isidar Mitrhim before dissipating. From where he lay Eragon had a clear view, for the roof had effectively been removed. For a brief moment there was silence, then a crack appeared in the star. And another, and another until the gem lost its structural integrity and collapsed in on itself. A rather large piece of it came hurdling down right at him. Just in time he rolled to the side, barely dodging the sharp edges where the diamond had broken.

Scrambling to his feet he made his way outside, keeping his hand raised to deflect the many fragments that continuously rained down. _'Saphira, are you alright?_ ' He asked.

' _Barely, I think my wing is twisted but it doesn't appear to be broken._ '

Durza's form lay crumpled against the far wall. His fingers were twitching which meant he was incapacitated, but alive.

Good.

Not wasting any time he hurried across the courtyard and thrust the blade into Durza's heart. No time for heroics. Immediately Durza's eyes shot open as his hands clutched around the blade embedded in his chest. His lips fluttered, trying to form a curse no doubt, but all that came out was a gurgling cry. His skin became transparent and beneath it were bright, glowing orbs, much like the ones he had seen that fateful day up in the mountains.

They moved faster and faster until eventually, with a piercing cry, Durza split open down the middle and the spirits went free into the world, soon dissipating into nothingness. Eragon had no time to pause, however, shaken out of his trance by another large chunk of crystal. His eyes slid to the side. Faolin was still unconscious, but safe, sheltered underneath an overhanging stone ledge. Arya, however, had been thrown out into the open by the explosion and lay in a pool of her own blood. Quickly he went over to her and turned her onto her stomach in an attempt to slow the bleeding. He would have to get her to a healer.

Meanwhile, however, it still rained chunks of rock and diamond so he did the only thing that he could. Gathering her limbs closer to the core of her body he hunkered down over her, shielding her body with his. He remained there, jaws clenched as he was bombarded. He felt his ribs crack and break as rock after rock hammered down on his skin. An eternity later, it seemed, the torrent finally let up

When he opened his eyes again the world had turned blue. He had been so focused on maintaining posture he had not noticed that Saphira had crawled out from underneath the rubble and now stood over them, covering them both protectively with her uninjured wing. _'Thank you.'_ He said.

' _It is the way we Riders and Dragons work. We protect each other. There is no need to thank me.'_

Icarus was quick to take over. _"This is why fighting sorcery with sorcery doesn't work. Energy must be maintained. It is never lost, nor created, only changed. Trying to destroy it as you just did now twists the fabric of the world in unpredictable manners and quite frankly you are lucky to still be alive. Now go fix this mess you created."_

When the deadly hail finally relented Saphira raised her wing slightly. To his pleasant surprise he saw a shaggy cat with unusual eyes. _'Solembum, could you find Angela for me?'_ The were-cat looked at him for a moment before bowing his head and running off.

Eragon removed himself from Arya's injured form. Looking around he found nothing of much use to him. With a sigh he removed the rudimentary leather armor and tore several large patches of cloth from his tunic. The fabric was by no means clean, drenched in his sweat as it was, but at least it had not repeatedly been dragged through the filth of war. Carefully he began dressing the large serrated wound, successfully slowing down the worst of the bleeding.

It was then Angela came around the corner. Contrary to what he had at first thought, she was donned in what looked like battle attire and wielding a rather exotic-looking polearm with a menacing blade on either end. The blood dripping down the blades told him she knew how to use it too. When he rose he knew it must have been a sight to behold, tunic torn and covered in Arya's blood from head to toe. "What have you been doing?! First I see you fly off away from the battle, then some strange magic blows the star sapphire apart and now you summon me to the middle of abandoned Tronjheim?"

It was too long a story and would take time they didn't have right now if Arya was to be saved. "It seems I am no longer the only one who dons unusual weaponry." Eragon said, gesturing towards the pole arm. In doing so, however, he released the pressure on his makeshift dressing. He quickly placed his hands back, softly cursing as some blood welled up between his fingers.

"This is a Hûthvìr. I won it in a game of riddles from one of the members of the Quan clan. I'm sure you will get to meet those dwarves in due time. Hot headed little bastards, though."

"Angela, I don't know what you are, but I know you are the best chance she has right now."

Angela's visage darkened. "All that blood is hers isn't it?" She asked. Eragon gave no reply. "Show me." He briefly paused, giving her a questioning look, but Angela appeared unrelenting. With slow movements he began to undo the strips of cloth, revealing the damage Arya had sustained. "This is no ordinary wound." She said, trailing her fingers over the raw, red edges. The flesh was already beginning to darken to a necrotic black.

"It's Durza's doing." Eragon replied.

"The king's shade? Where did he-"

"I killed him."

"So that is why you left the battle. Well, whatever you did, it worked. The Urgals are in full retreat." Angela said. "This one, however, is going to need immediate attention. The wound carries Durza's taint. I cannot undo the damage, but I can limit the spread of it. I will need… Yes. Alright, you best get back to the front. I will do what I can here."

"Will she live?" Eragon asked, suddenly very unnerved at the thought of losing her.

"Without a doubt. That much I assure you, Eragon Shadeslayer."

Shadeslayer, huh? I think I can get used to that title." The herbalist snorted indignantly.

"Don't get used to it."

Eragon ignored her snide remark. "Thank you Angela. You truly are a blessing."

' _Saphira, do you think you can fly one last time today?'_ He asked.

' _Let's give them hell.'_ She replied, sensing his intentions. Quickly he hopped into the saddle, wincing when Saphira took off. Although she tried to hide the pain she didn't do so very well and Eragon couldn't help but feel for her. Together they glided over the Urgal hordes. Sure enough there was some skirmishing here and there, but the bulk of the creatures indeed appeared to be on the run.

' _Ready?'_ He asked.

' _Together.'_

Saphira opened her jaws wide as Eragon spoke _"Liy"_. Their combined torrent of flame cascaded down on the unprotected Urgals, frying them alive where they stood. The fearful cries of the retreating forces mixed with the victorious ones from the dwarves and the Varden. Drawing even more power towards him Eragon threw swathes of red-hot flames around, even when Saphira could no longer sustain her own fire. With their forces decimated the Urgals broke into a full unorganized retreat.

' _That's enough I think. No need to be unnecessarily cruel. Look, I think I see Ajihad and Hrothgar over there.'_ Eragon said, mentally noting where the two figureheads overlooked the battlegrounds. Saphira lazily spiraled down as the soldiers cleared a space large enough for her to touch down.

"It appears we have won." Ajihdad said, congratulating him. "You have done exceptionally well. I don't know what you did, but it changed the tide in our favor."

"I killed Durza." Eragon said, hoisting himself out of the saddle.

"Then you succeeded where hundreds of others have failed. It appears Galbatorix has gained a formidable opponent, I am glad you fought on our side today." Ajihad concluded.

"Yes, the day was won, but not without casualty. The star sapphire, the heart of our people, has been shattered. Generations upon generations have lived gazing up at it, it will take a long time for the wound to scar over, for it will never heal." Hrothgar said grimly.

"It gets worse. Though I killed Durza I was unable to stop him from inflicting… grave injury on your elvish ambassadors. They are in Angela's care now, but I think these are wounds not even elven magic will cure." Eragon added to further diminish any sense of accomplishment they might have had over their victory.

Surprisingly it was Saphira who spoke up next. _'King Hrothgar. If you can bring together all the fragments of the star sapphire, and I mean each and every one of them, I can restore it to its former glory.'_

' _Saphira, is that a claim you are sure you are willing to make?'_ Eragon asked uncertainly.

' _The answer will come to me when it's time. I sense it.'_ She replied.

Meanwhile something appeared to come to life in Hrothgar's eyes. "Is it true, what she says?" He asked Eragon.

"She is confident in her abilities." He replied.

"Then me and my people are forever in your debt. It shall be done!" He exclaimed.

With an "iep!" Nemeya suddenly popped up from behind Ajihad, bow and arrow at the ready. She shot the arrow which cut a hair-thin line across Eragon's cheekbone. He was about to lash out at her when a gugling sound arose from behind him. Turning, he saw an Urgal, weapon raised with her arrow embedded in his chest. Eragon calmly stepped aside as the humongous being collapsed with the noise of clattering armor. Deftly he moved a finger across his face, watching as a fresher coat of blood came over the older one. "We need to work on your aim some more."

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Leet and fly plot-twists all around. Thanks to everyone for being patient and see ya next time!

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Tamerlorde85 - How the hell can I make ExA happen in a stable way when Eragon surrounds himself with sluts? xD. GET YO MIND OUT OF DA GUTTER! No, Elena's story was supposed to work like this: She has been magically altered so her physical form is never in one place. Passing this on to Eragon, he can now move from one place to the next. See ya next time!

Ky111 - It's an interesting thought and one I have not yet made up my mind about yet. People are gonna have to die soon, though. I can't write a catching story without people you care about dying. Any suggestions?

Dragon Junkie74 - It's alright, what matters is that you have been reading along! It's nice to hear from you again, though. Faolin will meet a fitting end when his time has come, that much I can promise you. First, though, we are gonna have to get a really deep pity train for Eragon going. See it through and I promise when ExA comes in a few chapters, it will be glorious!

Mad Hatter - Yeah, I figured parts were not gonna be as naturally flowing as you are used to :\\. I just wanted to get to the good stuff! I hope this chapter did not dissappoint. If this one felt rushed I don't know what to do anymore xs. I agree the mother's trial should have been harder, but I was lazy (shame! *ding ding ding* shame!). The memories are now part of him, equal to his own memories. Practically he instantly mentally aged by 30 years. It will show through in later chapters, starting next one. Thanks for sticking around!

sprtgln - You will find the charm of the dark side irresistable! Galby will rule all! I hope this chapter was equally satisfying to read, though somewhat shorter. I hope to see you around again next time!

watchman1 - Well, you got to witness first hand how the Eragon/Durza fight went, as well as what happens when two sorcerers fight one-another. I will tell you right now, Eragon will not be winning over Arya slowly. Instead, at the right moment in time, Arya will realise Eragon means more to her than Faolin ever could. Until that time is there, you will have to watch him roll through the dirt I'm affraid. Hang in there for a few more chapters! It will be bad, but in the end I promise you it will be worth it. If you have any questions remaining after this chapter, feel free to ask! See ya next time.

booklover1798 - I hope this one has met with your approval as well!

HomoForElmo - Well, you have your wifi back now, so all is well in the world. My plot twist left no room for Brom to die, sorry! I can only be horrible to my characters in so many ways at one given time. Eragon on the training field will happen soon, possibly next chapter. I guess you will find out soon ;). Lit ad, signing off.

Mehwhatever - That's great to hear! I hope that you are still reading now that chapter 14 is here (seeing as you reviewed on ch5), but It's always nice to hear such kind words. See ya next time!

VizualEra - I hope your exams went well, do you have the results yet? Angela is going to get waaaay more love in this story than Paolini ever gave her, but you get to find out about that soon (in a few chapters). TBH too much has been happening to really bring Brom into the picture. I guess I will have to find a way to kill him soon. You are on track concerning Nemeya. She will be more than just an apprentice, though. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Stubbsie8 - I'm glad to hear that new readers find this story even now! Even happier to hear that you like it. Now that the wait is over, I hope chapter 14 continues to please as the first thirteen have. See ya next time!


	15. Chapter 15

Hello guys! Another chapter, from Lübeck, Germany this time (I found stable WIFI here, yay me)! Next one up by monday or tuesday I think. Will finally be home again on saturday. Only five review this time - and thank you to those who did take the time to leave a few words!Aa welcome change actually, since I won't have to write 1k words of replies this time, but don't make a habit out of it! ;). Regardless, enough of my rambling. Enjoy the chapter!

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 _Just as a warning, this chapter contains rather dark themes._

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"Alright, tell me what you found." Eragon said, returning to Angela's chambers, dropping a large assortment of herbs,a casket of wine, twine, bandaging, as well as a large bundle of firewood on the table in front of them.

"Her spine was hit, but not penetrated. That means she will likely experience a loss of sensation or movement, but it will not be permanent. I took the liberty of washing her while you were out getting all that." Angela replied, setting a large kettle of boiling water down next to the large wooden table. Arya, sprawled out flat on her stomach, was still out of it, which was probably for the best considering what they would have to do next. "Are you sure you are up to this?"

Eragon took a deep breath. "I'm sure. I might not be a skilled healer or a knowledgeable herbalist, but I patched up my fair share of cuts and lacerations over the years. Hunting alone is not without peril."

"Alright, you stoke the fire, I will get started with the herbs." Angela said. As Eragon began throwing large heaps of wood on the fire, Angela decanted a good amount of wine into a bowl and began scrubbing down her hands. The alcohol in the wine would do a good job of killing and rinsing the impurities on their skin. Although wine was a bit rudimentary and it would stain their hands purple, it would mean Arya stood a better chance against infection.

As the temperature in the room began to rise to an uncomfortable level, Eragon followed suit, rinsing down his hands several times. "Clean out the wound please." The herbalist instructed as she bent over the herbs pensively, taking twigs and leaves from several of the specimens. Taking one of the clean cloth scraps from the large he brought, he pulled it through the boiled water. A purple cloud spread from the spot where his fingers touched the water.

Hanging it over the edge of the pot he set himself to the task of removing the current dressing, which Angela had applied just minutes earlier. Carefully he pulled the fabric out of the wound, careful not to cause additional damage where the tissue had begun to adhere to the dressing. Sizing up the gruesome wound, he set out to cleaning the most bloodied sections first. "Angela, Durza hit two major veins. I'm going to stitch those up first because there are bleeding heavily."

"Technically they are arteries, but that's a discussion for another time. Do what you deem best." The herbalist said, crushing an unknown mixture of dried leaves in her mortar. "The needles are in the cupboard to your left."

Retrieving one of them he sterilized it in the fire and wove a strand of twine through it. He threw out the wine they had washed their hands in and prepared a new bowl, wetting the twine in it. Then he reached deep into the wound, looking for the source of the bleeding. When he found it he firmly wrapped his fingers around it and pushed the needle through it. With quick motions Eragon wrapped the twine around it several times and pushed the needle through the loops before tightening the know with a firm tug. The result was virtually immediate. Instead of a continuous pool of blood his fingers, stained crimson, now began to appear in the depths of Arya's wound. By the time he had stitched up the third open artery the bleeding appeared to be down to a controllable level. The raised temperature in the room had kick started her body's clotting process, which had taken care of the smaller leaks as Eragon worked on the major blood vessels.

Reaching for the now luke-warm cloth, he began the tedious process of cleaning out the wound. With careful strokes he worked the damaged flesh bit by bit, ensuring the use of liberal amounts of water and cloth. "You look as if you have done this plenty of times before." Angela's voice said behind him.

Eragon briefly paused to look over his shoulder. The blood from the battle, which by now had caked into a thick, hard crust all over his skin, flaked off his neck as he twisted it. "When I was fifteen I fell down a cliff and cut my leg open from knee to hip. Although our local healer was kind enough to fix me up, I did not have the money to have her care for me and I had no family left either. Every morning I had to clean the wound myself… you learn rather quickly if you are your own test subject." He said, before returning to his work.

"You were orphaned?" Angela asked as she began applying the salve she had created in the places he had already cleaned out.

"I never knew my parents, but my mother left me in the care of my uncle. He died of sickness when I was very young. For a time my cousin took care of me, but when I was twelve he left to… find his luck elsewhere." Eragon said, forcing the truth about Roran, that he had betrayed his country and his cousin, to the back of his mind. "What about your parents?"

Angela was silent for a while and just when Eragon thought she would not answer him, she spoke up. "I was born on an island, far away from this place. For a time I knew my parents and loved them, until they too met an untimely end. By that time, however, I was old enough to know what I had to do. Far older than you were when your uncle died."

Together they worked down the length of Arya's back, from the tip of her shoulder to her hip, caring for the large s-shaped wound the best they could. Angela took upon herself the unpleasant task of cleaning the edges. With a sharp knife she cut away the rotting flesh, leaving a clean and even edge to stitch up later. Next to her a large pile of pale and black tissue began to form. Somewhere along the line Saphira contacted him to wish him good night and to wish him luck. The words, though simple, did much to hearten him despite his current situation. "Do you know how to set sutures?" Angela asked when they finally finished.

Eragon was about to say he didn't when a memory began to trickle into his conscious mind. A memory that was not his own. "Yes, I think I do." He said without thinking.

"I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, but you'd better get to it then. I'm gonna was this filth off and get out of this uncomfortable heat." The herbalist said.

"Take care, Angela." He said, pulling more twine from the spindle and pulling it through the needle. As his hands set the needle on Arya's marred skin, it was not his own volition that made them move. Pulling from Elena's memory he began the endless task of sealing the wound. He remembered how she had sat countless hours, patching up her beloved. It took a good few minutes to place each and every one and after the first hour he found himself only about one third of the way done.

"That's going to be one wicked scar." Icarus said as his transparent form sat down in the chair Angela had previously occupied.

"Is there nothing you can do for her?" Eragon asked as more wine-soaked twine slipped through his fingers and into Arya's skin, guided by the needle he was wielding.

"There is one… no. All things considered there is nothing we can do other than what you already have. You and Angela have ensured she lives, which is more than any other healer could have achieved."

"You knew her." Eragon said, referring to the now no longer present herbalist.

"For a period, yes. She is odd, but nobody knows their way around ailments and cures like she does. There is nobody else more skilled than her at this task. Even though an elven healer might fix you up quicker, she is capable of healing the hurts even they cannot fix… save this one."

"She said something similar. That the wound carries Durza's evil, but that makes no logical sense." Eragon said.

"It does. The wound in and of itself, although grave, was not special in any way – until you killed Durza that is. When a shade dies, the spirits trapped inside the body literally tear apart the soul of its original inhabitant. Living creatures can easily fend those malignant fragment off, but in Arya's weakened condition…"

"Are you saying I did this to her when I killed Durza?" Eragon said.

"If you want to look at it that way, yes. But Eragon, no blame befalls you. Cases like this, though recorded, are very rare. Even in the condition she was in when you killed the shade, the chances of this happening were microscopic to begin with. You cannot remove a soul, or fragments of one, with any known herb or spell, which makes this type of injury so difficult to treat."

"You were capable of manipulating souls and spirits." Eragon replied.

"At a time when I was alive, yes. But this is much akin to trying to separate water and wine. Carsib's soul was splintered into so many pieces, manipulating them all at the same time is nearly impossible. In a few thousand years your abilities might have grown to the point where you could pull it off, but there is nothing you can do other than this right now."

"I did this to her…" Eragon whispered to himself as he continued stitching up the wound.

"You had no way of foreseeing this outcome, don't mull over it too much. When you are done, add a layer of wet cloth before you patch up your stitches. A wet environment speeds up healing. And make sure the other elf doesn't try any of his fancy magic tricks – they will undo much of the work you and Angela have done." Icarus said before leaving Eragon alone with his thoughts once again.

He worked deep into the night. At some point Faolin, who appeared to be mostly ok, walked into the room and pulled the chair up to the side of the table Eragon was working at. "Did they patch you up okay?" Eragon asked, attempting to make small-talk.

"I can take care of myself. Why, exactly, have none of the healers come to take care of that wound _properly_ yet?" Faolin replied. How terribly rude. Brom had told him elves were supposed to be civilized, neat and polite beings. Faolin appeared to be an exception.

"Because this wound will rot and decay, causing total death within days if not hours if you do that." Eragon replied levelly as he worked.

"And how exactly would you know this? You are human, barely a boy. Not old enough to be fulfilling such an important task as caring for our crown princess." Faolin voiced arrogantly. The words 'human' and 'boy' might as well have been replaced with the word 'rodent'.

Eragon briefly paused, taking a deep breath before setting another suture. So Arya was a princess, who would have known? Thinking about it, it actually shouldn't have surprised him. Even beings as noble as elves couldn't all walk around as regally as she did. "You are a terribly rude and ungrateful person. I know because I have to. Now unless you want to set the remainder of these stitches yourself I suggest you remain silent." He said, trying to make the best impersonation of Angela as he could.

"You dare call me rude? I would challenge you to a duel of swords!"

"Once you can prove to me you are actually worth my time, I would be glad to show you to your proper place – on the ground at my feet. Now for the sake of Arya, be silent." To his surprise Faolin sulked down into his chair with a dark expression on his face, but remained quiet this time. Deciding not to push his luck he made quick work of the last few stitches and added plenty of wet padding as Icarus had instructed. When he was certain all the bandages were secure, he lifted Arya's frail form off the table and placed her down gently on the bed against the far wall. Her hands began to twitch and it would not be long before she would wake.

Faolin sat next to her, holding Arya's hand in his own. Eragon felt a pang of hurt. It should be him in that chair. He wanted to be the first thing she saw when she woke, but alas, his place was elsewhere. Her behavior over the last few days had made it plenty clear Arya had no desire to be around him. Besides, in his current condition he would probably not be the most pleasant sight – or smell for that matter - to wake up to. "Ensure she stays on her stomach until either I or Angela say otherwise. Lest you risk her wound opening up again." Eragon instructed, before slipping through the door and closing it behind him.

His night, however, was far from over. He would have to visit the sickbay, pay his respects to the fallen and then there would be Ajihad and Hrothgar who would no doubt require his presence to settle the aftermath of the battle. All of that could wait, however, until he'd taken a moment to wash the many layers of filth and dry blood, which begun to scrape in rather… uncomfortable places, off.

Just as luck would have it he ran into his accomplice in the hallway, still clad in her battle attire. "Nemeya, do you know where I can find a place to bathe?" He asked, not bothering to hide the tiredness in his voice.

"I will bring a tub to your chambers at once." She replied.

"You really don't have to do that, all-"

"No. I was your servant and I still am. Besides, I barely made any effort during the fight. You can go ahead and get ready." She said in a stern voice that, if anything, sounded almost motherly. Eragon was too tired to argue and, shrugging his shoulders, continued onwards to his own chambers. As such he found himself seated in a hot tub five minutes later, Nemeya diligently working soap through his hair in a nigh futile attempt to get the blood out. "You should come with me tonight." Eragon mused.

"Why?"

"You must be seen, remembered. It's the only way to win over the people."

"I- I don't know if I can. All those people, they fought when I idly stood by."

"You also shed blood this battle, don't forget that." Eragon replied. Nemeya's hands faltered and immediately he was aware he had touched upon a delicate subject. "That wasn't your first kill, wasn't it?" He asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." Was her curt reply. Instead of arguing with her, Eragon immediately rose from the water, Nemeya averting her eyes almost reflexively. The remainder of the blood was not going to come loose any time soon anyways. Instead he dried himself off with quick motions and, having wrapped the towel around himself, called for the dwarf who stood guard by his door. Giving his instruction he walked out of the room, leaving a dumb folded Nemeya behind as he went to clothe himself in a new tunic.

Patiently he waited for the dwarf to return with a few of his colleagues, carrying in a new tub of hot, steaming water and removing the last. When he was sure they were well out of earshot he turned to Nemeya again. "Undress and get in." He said with a stern voice.

"But-"

"No but's. I command you as your liege. Trust me." He hated pulling rank, but if it kept those he called his healthy in mind and body he would not hesitate. Out of courtesy he turned his back to her and patiently waited. For a moment he was afraid he would have to spur her on further, but sure enough he began to hear the sound of hardened leather hitting stone and rustling fabric. "A- alright, I trust you." He heard her uncertain voice.

Turning around he seated himself in the very same chair she had previously occupied herself. With careful, practiced motions he began combing through the long hair, undoing the braid and getting to work scrubbing the filth of battle out of it. "Where did you learn how to do this so well?" Nemeya asked, her previous nervousness apparently being subdued by an intense sense of tranquility.

"My uncle, who was my only remaining family save for my cousin, died when I was very young. Over the months he lay dying I would wash him." He replied. It wasn't the whole truth, but he was not about to explain he had over thirty years of experience being a female, mother and lover stuck in his head.

"You were orphaned?" Nemeya asked.

"You and your cousin were orphaned?"

"My cousin left me to die." He replied evenly. Weaving his hands through strands of her long hair. "Turns out I will have to kill him next time I see him, but that's a story for another time." He let silence reign for a time, working down her back. "When my uncle died, I found someone to talk to and confide in."

"Who?" She asked, her voice husky.

"Brom. At the time he was nothing more to me than the story teller of our village, but he always kept an eye out for me." Eragon wrung out her hair, removing as much of the water as possible. "My point is, that you need to talk to someone at some point. A friend, a relative, somebody, anybody. It's a vital part of coming to terms with the past."

"The water is getting cold." Nemeya said averting the subject he was trying to subtly breach.

Reaching forward Eragon submerged his hands in the water and whispered _"Liy"_ , adding minute amounts of power to the word until the water was steaming once more.

Nemeya turned her head to stare into his eyes, no doubt trying not to lose herself in the endless pools of azure and violet. "What are you?" The whispered words had tumbled over her lips before she could catch them.

"Other." He replied simply. "With the potential to be more powerful than any other being currently in existence."

"A secret for a secret, am I right?" She snorted. "For a time I had a normal childhood. We used to live in Aroughs. My father worked for the governor as a carpenter so we made a decent living. One day they told me I was to have a little sister. At the time I didn't know what that meant, but when my mother was beginning to grow heavy with child, my father decided it would be better for her to be with her parents when the time came. So, with the blessing of our lord, we left for Kuasta by boat.

Pirates weren't uncommon at the time, so we traveled in an escorted convoy. When we passed between the isles of Eoam and Illium, however, our ship got trapped in a thick fog. When it cleared, we were all alone. Then we saw the ships with the black sails…" Eragon already saw in which direction the story was headed, but didn't interrupt her, instead holding his hands on her shoulders to provide an anchor to the here and now for her.

"They made short work of the crew, I remember the lifeless look in my dad's eyes as they threw his severed head overboard - but that wasn't the worst. Do you know what they do to women they capture?" Nemeya asked. Eragon could guess, but instead he shook his head. She had to say the actual words, come to terms with them.

"They raped my mother for days. I was chained up in the next room over and was forced to listen to her screams day and night. I lost track of time in that place, but after perhaps a week her weakened body was no longer able to withstand the treatment and… my mother – she miscarried. Instead of helping her, they merely left her to bleed out and die. When her crying still hadn't died down after a few hours, they sliced her up to speed up the process."

Her knuckles turned white as she fisted the edge of the tub. "When they led me into that room they didn't even bother to clean it. There was blood everywhere. It coated my legs, my back, my hair. I can still remember the rotting miscarried fetus in the corner as they…" At this point she completely collapsed into sobs. Eragon didn't bother to imagine a happy ending. Life was no fairy tale and so he did the only thing he could. Reaching for a towel he gathered her small frame in his arms, lifted it out of the water, wrapped her up and gathered her close to his chest. Rocking her back and forth and whispering words of comfort to her. After what seemed like hours she finally calmed down enough to continue. "One day, when one of the pirates was getting particularly… carried away, I managed to wrap the chain that bound my arms around his neck and garroted him right there and then." She continued as sobs continued to rack her body.

"As luck would have it I found they keys to my chains in his belt and managed to escape. Not knowing what else to do I just jumped overboard. They shot arrows at me…" She moved the towel an inch, showing a jagged, badly healed wound above her collarbone. "I was adrift for a day, slowly bleeding into the ocean until I washed up on the shore of a small, barren atoll. When I saw another ship I did the only thing I could. I pulled out the arrow and used the arrowhead and a flint I found on the beach to start a fire. The resulting blaze would have burned me alive had their dingy not arrived when it did. It turned out to be a Surdan ship headed for Varden territory and I have been here ever since. Nobody else knows, not even Ajihad and he knows everything."

"Your secret is safe with me and you will have your revenge, I swear it." Eragon said, knowing pity wouldn't help her in any way. They sat together in silence while Nemeya buried her face in his fresh tunic. For a moment Eragon found himself wondering what it would be like to have a younger sister, but he soon dismissed the thought.

"I was not always as I was now. I used to be naïve and have dull, brown eyes. Life was harsh, but fair. I have survived on my own since I was twelve years old." Eragon said. "I don't know how many years I could have carried on, for my uncle's home was beginning to fall apart, but we will never know now. Last winter I was out hunting when Arya, the elfin woman who now rests in Angela's chambers, was ambushed by Durza. At the time she was responsible for ferrying Saphira's egg between the elves and the Varden. Somehow she sent the egg away and it happened to appear before me. The magic with which she did so was so violent it caused a small explosion. A large piece of wood tore straight through my abdomen."

"Then you should be dead." Nemeya said in amazement.

"I did die, but then something… happened. You must promise not to say to anyone what I am about to tell you next." After some fussing about he managed to make her swear so in the ancient language. "Only one other is privy to this information and it's not Ajihad." He continued. "An ancient entity by the name of Icarus found me. He knew I was to become Saphira's rider and for reasons yet unknown to me he decided to save me by turning me into a… demi-shade of sorts. I'm not going to go into detail, but my life has been all sorts of fucked up since. For instance he makes time stop and has me train eight hours with my blades each day – and I mean each and every day, even tonight - against him. They used to be his, by the way, until he died – which is another topic veiled in secrets I do not yet know, but with the centuries, perhaps eons of experience he has, most every night ends with me biting the dust one way or another."

"I- I want to believe you, I really do, but…"

" _Hold her hand over your heart."_ Not even bothering to question the words he grabbed Nemeya's hand and placed it over his beating heart. Icarus appeared behind him, flanked by the many robed figures that had also taken refuge in his body.

" _I exist, little girl. I must guide Eragon to his destiny, for that is my task."_ For good measure Icarus spread his wings. _"Yaena rests, as does Turan. They have found their peace, now find your own."_

"That's not possible." Nemeya whispered, taking her hand from his ribcage.

"What?"

"My parent's names, those were my parent's names. He couldn't have known them."

"He spent years drifting about on the winds, at this point nothing he says really surprises me anymore. But know this, in all the time I have known him, he has never once lied. If he says your parents rest, they do." He allowed her a few moments to relish in this new knowledge and find some comfort before, unfortunately but necessarily, bursting her bubble. "I must go see the wounded and the dead before meeting with Ajihad and Hrothgar. I would have you come with me, but if you feel like you need to-"

"I will come." She said, a new-found strength in her voice. Staring deep into her unwavering eyes Eragon convinced himself of the truth in her words.

"Alright, let's get you dressed then."

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Stubbsie8 - It wouldn't be much of an exiting story if I told you every plot twist, right? Yet I will tell you Eragon will not become part elf in this story, but leave it at that... I think... As always your kind words are humbling, but thank you anyways! I hope to see you again next time!

Alkesh1188 - I think everyone reading this fiction - including the writer for that matter - is united on that particular subject ;). For Faolin to be truly miserable however, I need to make the ExA all the sweeter and fluffier, so just hang in there for a bit longer! Thank you for reviewing and I will see you next time.

Dragon Junkie74 - It's hard work, but the vacation-stress is dampened a bit by my stays at five-star hotels ;). I'm sorry to hear about your current situation. I know it doesn't help much, but I have been there too at some point. Trust me when I tell you those others aren't worth the trouble. I learned to be strong and independent - happy without the presence of others. At some point (for me it was the beginning of university) people will start to see you as a natural leader figure. An anchor of sorts. Today I have a solid network of friends and acquaintances that stretches from Maine to Saudi-Arabia. I know this doesn't help you now, but I want to show you there is a future for you out there that in no way needs to be the way things are for you now. Regardless I hope this chapter brought some calm into your life and see you next time!

Mad Hatter - Eragon needs to have disadvantages with his huge power. In short the answer is no, Eragon will never be able to heal himself or those around him through 'magical' ways. Again a no-show for Brom this time, but I promise he will get (a lot of) attention at the beginning of the next chapter. Vacation is passing by quick, I will already be home again come saturday. It's been fun, but I'm looking forward to being home again. Thank you for the review and see ya next time!

HomoForElmo - I love the way your comments are always 7331 and fly, even if I don't know you, Elmo - I mean Slim Shady. Stay shiny and see ya next time!


	16. Chapter 16

Hello everyone! In between all of the errands I have to run I found the time to bring you another chapter. A day earlier than planned no less. Bit of a filler this time, but the pace will be picking up soon again. Promise.

Thank you for all the kind words and enjoy!

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"Where will you go from here?" Brom asked as they walked through the deserted hallways side by side. Except for the occasional sentry the Varden slept. Eragon, who had just finished another training session with Icarus, took a moment to gather his wits about him and reply.

"We will travel by night and rest by day. We can't risk the Varden looking defenseless, especially if they are planning to march within the next few days. I do not know when I will return, but it will have to be soon, lest we run the risk of being annihilated by Galbatorix and his rider. Has Ajihad returned with his hunting party yet?"

"Concerningly enough, he hasn't. Ajihad is a tough one to kill, though. It's the girl you have taken as your apprentice that worries me. She appeared to be unusually affected by the news of your departure."

"I have my ways to keep in contact with her when I'm in Ellesméra."

"Scrying will not work. Not from within the depths of the elven forests. It's just one of the many defenses they have built up over the years to keep Galbatorix at bay."

Eragon waved his hand dismissively. "You keep forgetting such magic eludes me, but I have my methods. I could see what the king himself is doing right now if I so wished. Thank you for caring for Saphira's wings, by the way."

"It was nothing." Brom said with a mixture of bashfulness and nonchalance.

"No, it took a lot of energy and there is nobody else I would have trusted with the task. These powers I have seem to be more frustrating than anything else most of the time." Eragon growled.

"Although that power may elude you, you are a force to be reckoned with already, barely half a year after your… transition so to say. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's what you think. What all of those around me think. I- whatever it is I became, it's in no way a stable thing. I feel like this whole situation can fly straight out of my hands at any moment and there is no way of knowing what will happen if it does. You can't imagine the sheer _power_ of it all. It's a power so vast I am almost certain it eclipses even Galbatorix's if I ever learn to master it. Power that is as apt to corrupt as it is to help others."

"To fight the monster we have all a little become the monster." Brom solemnly replied. "Besides, there are few as pure of heart as you and I have known many, _many_ people over the years. If anyone can bear this gift or curse, it's you. The fact alone that you labored for hours to save the life of another without even taking the time to get cleaned up and out of your armor first says enough."

"She resents me." Eragon curtly answered.

A small smile rose around Brom's lips. "You like her."

"Drop it." The rider replied through gritted teeth.

"It must be really bad."

Eragon sent Brom his best death glare. "I know it's hopeless and futile. I have just not… convinced myself enough yet. Besides, she has that arrogant elf who seems to be there _all_ the time, except when she needs him."

"Faolin? He never struck me as ill-mannered…" Brom mused.

"He has yet to come to terms with the fact a 'mere human' saved his life. Twice now, I might add. But I don't blame her, not really. How can you like, let alone love someone who struck down a friend you have known for, how old could she be, a century? More? Besides, it's probably nothing more than lust on my part. There is no denying she is very pretty, even with a scar from shoulder to hip. Lust is an emotion that should soon pass into nothing but fading memory. You will remain with the Varden?" They emerged into a small open-air enclosure where Saphira patiently awaited them. Taking a moment, the rider approached his bonded partner of mind and soul and shared a moment of greeting with her.

"They will need my guidance in the months to come if they want to win this war, so I'm not going anywhere. Don't despair, Eragon. These things have a tendency to work themselves out sooner or later." Brom said, giving Eragon a reassuring pat on the back when he finished. "But before you go, I would give you something for on the road." He added, dropping a moderately sized leather satchel in Eragon's hands. Curiously he opened it, peeking at its contents. Inside he found a thick book titled Domia abr Wyrda, a small clay tablet, carefully wrapped, and a small pack of seasoning. "The book chronicles the history of alagaesia as far as racial memory stretches. It will help you understand your role as a rider, who they were and where they came from. Unwrap the tablet."

Eragon did as he was asked and revealed a small image of a woman with tumbling raven hair. She stood amidst a flowering field, daggers in hand. "Take good care of it, Eragon. It's an image of your mother. Selena was her name. It was created through elven magic by someone who knew her many years ago. I would tell you the story behind it, but I'm afraid it will have to wait for another time. There are two more things. First," Brom said, taking an ornate golden ring set with a red stone off his hand, "take this. Its name is Aren and it was given to me many years ago. It's a token of trust, rarely bestowed upon foreigners, from the elves. It will open doors that would otherwise remain closed and hopefully dampen the… otherness that despite your every attempt to hide it rolls off you in waves."

"I thank you." Eragon replied, sliding the ring onto his left ringfinger and stowing the pack into a rudimentary saddlebag he and Brom had improvised and attached to Saphira's saddle. In preparation for departure he raised his hood and pulled his cloak tightly around him. The night air was cold and it would only get worse the higher they got.

"Angela asked me to give this to you. Didn't tell me what it was, though." Brom said, handing him vial filled with crystal clear liquid. "Safe journey, Eragon."

"Good fortune smiles upon you." He replied, hoisting himself into the saddle.

' _Ready?'_ Saphira asked.

' _Let's fly!'_

Spreading her wings Saphira made one, two, three heavy beats with her wings and they were off. Brom remained and became a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon as Saphira angled herself north, catching an air current that took them through the clouds and far above.

' _This is the first time we will be going somewhere together. Just us two.'_ She mused.

' _I hope it's just the first of many. Are you up to the task?'_ He asked jokingly.

' _My wings have itched to do this for weeks.'_ She replied before pulling into a wide corkscrew that threatened to send Eragon tumbling from the saddle.

' _Very funny.'_ Eragon replied as he fought to keep the contents of his stomach in their place. Saphira's only reply was a continuous stream of silent amusement as they continued to carve through the thin night air. Reaching forward he took something from his saddlebag and unwrapped it. Like a precious gem he held the green dragon egg in his hands. A preposterous notion of course.

The egg was many times more valuable than a gem.

' _How would dragon-omelet taste?'_ He asked in retaliation to Saphira's earlier idea of a practical joke. He received the equivalent of an undignified grumble in response. Fact of the matter was he had been turning over ideas in his head about what to do with the egg for days now. With the Varden marching off to war, he would have to find a destination for it fast. The front-line would be a very stupid choice.

Carefully he considered possible candidates, or rather, the lack of them. Brom would be busy and also considerably closer to danger than the egg should be. That and despite all appearances it was clear the old man was clearly in… decline. Although an assassin would likely fail, Eragon was not about to test that theory. Angela was too much of an unknown, too unpredictable. Nemeya would need a lot more training before she would be of much use to anyone. And then there was the most obvious choice…

' _It will give her a goal. New meaning. It might help her recovery to know such an important task is awaiting her.'_ Saphira offered.

' _That may be true, but we have no way of knowing how deep her wounds go, how much damage Durza has caused. You know as well as I do that she will never make a full recovery. And then there is Faolin…'_

' _Would you place your own distrust of an elf over the preservation of my people?'_

' _Would you willingly give another egg into the hands of someone you know holds other races in contempt?'_

' _I see your point.'_ Saphira said. _'But considering the option, what's the worst that could happen?'_ She added, jokingly.

' _It could hatch for him.'_ Eragon replied darkly.

' _Oh god…'_ She replied with glumness.

' _His ego would become unstoppable.'_ Then they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.

For a time they both remained silent, content to just relish in each other's presence before Eragon spoke again. _'We will judge her recovery when we next see her and go from there.'_ He concluded before putting the egg away again.

It was much later that day, just before sunrise, that he found himself sitting cross legged facing the campfire. Saphira lay curled up behind him, her wing stretched out to instinctively shield him from the uncomfortably harsh wind that threatened to continually blow out the flames. _'You know how to reach me should trouble arise.'_ He said to Saphira.

' _Such will not come to pass. Fear not, Eragon. I will keep you safe.'_ She replied, before gently dozing off to slumber. Closing his eyes Eragon focused and whispered the words.

" _Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion."_ He released his body and flew hundreds of miles south, finding himself once more in the dimly lit hallways of Tronjheim. He was at the archery range, looking at Nemeya who was practicing her aim. The target was surrounded by arrows that had missed and flew wide. When she drew the next he immediately saw the problem. Her stance was off… again. Just when he was about to approach her a few of the soldiers practicing on other targets clustered around her.

"Not so tough when your rider isn't here to protect you, eh?" One of them said.

"Can't even hit a stationary target with twenty arrows." Another said.

"Hehe, yes, all bark and no bite. Perhaps we should remind her where women are supposed to be." A third added, becoming inappropriately bold and placing his hand on her lower back. Eragon saw something change in her eyes, an ancient wound opening up. He knew that right now she was back in the bowels of that ship, bathing in her mother's blood. He would not idly stand by and let this happen, no. Quickly he approached Nemeya and touched a finger to her shoulder.

" _Listen to the sound of my voice. I can try to help you but you need to do something for me."_ He said. It worked, for she appeared shaken out of her trance and her eyes trailed towards his. If she was surprised she did a decently good job at hiding it and merely quirked an eyebrow in response. _"This will sound vague but… try to open yourself up to suggestions."_ As soon as the words were off his lips he stepped forward and _into_ Nemeya.

At first he felt a harsh, unsurpassable barrier. The same that held him out of every other person he touched, but he felt Nemeya strain under his touch and the walls began to give way. Thankfully her three assaulters were too busy carried away with themselves to notice the slight twitches of her arms and fingers as Eragon asserted control. _"I will fend them off, but my hold on you is very weak. Whatever happens, I need you to trust me."_

When the first soldier went to pull down the shoulder strap of her dress Eragon made his move. Grabbing his wrist, Eragon twisted. Thankfully, though untrained, Nemeya's muscles were lean and strong and the man bent to the side without much effort. He followed up with a swift kick, hitting him under the chin. Releasing him Eragon bent backwards, dodging the lunge of the soldier to his left and caught the fist of the man on his right.

Pulling him forwards he broke the soldier's balance and caught his head in both hands. Not wasting any of the momentum the man had built up he forced his hands down and smashed his face into the stone pavement. With an acrobatic flip he caught the third man's long hair and pulled him over his shoulder, smashing him into the pillar behind him. With a dull thud he joined his comrades on the floor. " Pathetic." He said, stepping over the unconscious man. When the first made a half-hearted attempt to get up he stomped down on his groin, hard.

Ignoring the now significantly higher pitched cry he gave Nemeya further instructions. _"I will relinquish my hold now. Keep walking and don't come back until tomorrow. Whether you report them to Ajihad is your choice, but I would not. You have shown your strength."_ Restoring Nemeya's barriers to the state he'd found them in he retreated from her body and, keeping his hand on her back, walked beside her.

"Must you do that?" She whispered. Briefly he withdrew his hand before placing it back again.

" _I need to make bodily contact if I wish to communicate. Were we in your chambers a simple touching of feet would have been sufficient, but that is rather difficult to do when walking."_ She nodded in understanding before leading him through countless corridors. Eventually the wound up in front of a small door that she opened. _"This is where you live?"_ Eragon asked in disbelief.

The room was barely larger than a broom closet. Not even a full length bed fit, some pillows and thin blankets disorderly arranged against the far wall. A few scarce personal belongings were scattered about the floor. "It's not much, but-"

" _This will simply not do. Gather your belongings at once. From today onwards you will use my chambers until we can find you better accommodation."_

"But Eragon, I cannot just-"

" _You can and you will. I don't want to order you to do it, but I will if I must."_ Tentatively she tried to return the contact and, finding his non-corporeal form solid under her fingers, slipped into his embrace. To any onlooker it would have looked strange to see someone hugging thin air, but thankfully they were alone.

"I thank you." She replied.

" _You are welcome. Brom told me you were greatly troubled by my departure so I decided to see how you were doing."_

"I was, but it's better now that I know you will still visit me. Where are you now?" She asked.

" _Somewhere a few leagues east of the desert. Perhaps one hundred or one hundred and fifty away from you."_

"Will you visit often?" She asked, sounding a lot like a daughter talking to a father.

" _This power is new to me yet and takes energy to maintain. It also grows more difficult the larger the distance, but whenever circumstances permit it, I promise to drop by. Also, you need to angle your front foot towards the target if you want to hit."_ He said before releasing his hold on the magic. The return journey was always worse than the first one. Feeling slightly nauseous he curled up next to Saphira and next thing he knew he was fast asleep.

The remainder of the journey passed rather uneventfully. They – or rather Saphira with her hawk-eye sight - saw a few empire patrols and the unusual war band of Urgals, but high in the clouds as they were they had likely been either missed completely or dismissed as a bird. It was at sunrise of the third day that instead of an expanse of hills and grassland they were greeted by a vast forest that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions. _'Would you look at that.'_ Saphira said in awe.

' _It appears we have arrived. In three days' time no less. Should we ever have to run, Murtagh and Galbatorix will not stand a chance if they try to keep up! We should land and trigger a few of the magical snares that the elves undoubtedly have put in place. Without help we have no chance of finding_ _Ellesméra_ _.'_

Humming in contentment with the praise her rider had bestowed upon her she lazily tipped one wing down, spiraling towards the treetops. _'There is no way I can land in between these trees, but I see a lake over there. I hope you don't mind getting wet?'_

' _Just give me a second to save the pouch Brom gave me. It deals with rain well enough, but let's not overdo things.'_ Skimming the edge of the lake to cause as little damage as possible Saphira folded her wings and brought them to a stop with Eragon submerged in water to his knees. He hopped off the saddle and made for dry land, followed by Saphira. She slumped down beside him as he emptied his water-filled boots and hung them out to dry. _'Want to place a bet on how long it will take them to find us?'_

' _That depends very much on how large you make the campfire.'_

Not much later he had a sizeable fire blazing away, no doubt having many elves fretting and sending guards – or at least, so he hoped. He hated waiting. He could do it if necessary, very well actually, but in these kinds of scenarios it felt like crumbling his time into kindling and throwing it into the flames in front of him. To kill the time he decided to check up on his pupil's process. The sweetness that always radiated off her was lined by concern, for Ajihad still remained missing. Tomorrow, he decided, he would try to find him. The Varden needed stability, especially now.

He sensed the three elves headed for him long before they actually got there, his spirit still hypersensitive from the sending he had just made to Nemeya. _'It appears the waiting is over.'_ He said to Saphira before rising to his feet. _'Do you want to do the honors?'_

' _Gladly.'_ Saphira said before opening her mind further. _'You can come out of those trees now. I promise not to bite.'_ She said towards any being in the general vicinity. One particular elf swung down from a branch above them, hanging from it by his knees. His mouth was slightly opened in a frozen expression of awe.

He twisted his hand in the signature greeting pose, but, receiving no response whatsoever, instead settled for: "Could you come down? You are giving me vertigo."

It appeared to have successfully broken the man out of his shock. "You are not one of the king's riders." The elf replied, hopping down from his branch. The words came out strangely exotic, much unlike Arya or Faolin, who had much more practice with the common tongue. He approached Saphira before falling to his knees, openly praising her.

"A very astute observation, Nilim" A female elf said in the common tongue as she walked out of the bushes. Unlike her colleague, she initiated the ritual greeting and Eragon happily replied. She, too, had been silent for a moment as she noticed Saphira. "Forgive us for not approaching you outright. My name is Myral, Nilim you have already met. He is rather… new to the job." Her eyes flashed towards his hand, where Aren was openly on display. "You carry the mark of my people, but the last one was given over eighty years ago. You are human, mortal, in no way old enough to have earned it. Who gave it to you?"

"Brom, my mentor." Eragon replied, deciding that being forthright was likely to yield the best results. "If you wish to speak in your own language, that's fine as well." He said. Elena, having spent much of her life speaking the ancient language, had passed on a significant amount of her knowledge. With only Brom's teachings he would have never made such a proposal, but now he felt comfortable enough to at least be conversational in the tongue.

"The offer is a most welcome one!" She replied, now outright smiling. "Your language is strange, harsh. I never truly took a liking to it. But forgive me, I am being rude. You have yet to introduce yourself, who might you be?"

"Eragon Shadeslayer, rider of Saphira, at your service." He said, slightly bowing to complete the picture.

"Unusual names, but very fitting indeed. You have a powerful name, one we do not bestow upon our children often, if at all. For all our sakes I hope you can live up to the legacy it carries."

"As do I." He replied in a quiet whisper. "Now I don't wish to be rude, but I am on a tight schedule. Is there any chance you could tell us how we can find Ellesméra?"

Myral immediately sobered up. "Of course! We shall guide you ourselves! Not far away is our camp. It is next to a river and we can use our boats to go upstream. The water will take is straight to Ellesméra." Eragon gestured for her to lead the way and dutifully followed, almost forgetting his damp boots in the process. It was strange to see how different the elves behaved compared to Arya and Faolin. They laughed and danced, almost continuously smiled and never stopped bestowing praise on Saphira.

' _Don't get used to it.'_ He had commented at some point when Nimil was getting particularly carried away.

' _Oh hush, you are just jealous.'_ Had been her amused reply as she paddled along in the river next to their boat. Both of them, however, were struck with silence immediately afterwards, for just around the bend of the river a large set of gates rose from the forest. They were greater than those of Tronjheim, perhaps even of Uru'baen itself and completely grown out of plants and trees, part of the forest.

"Behold," Myral said, "the gates of Dellanir. Very few humans have ever laid their eyes on it. We sent word ahead, Queen Islanzadí is expecting you."

* * *

crooker - but, but, but... that's like, waaaaaay to short to plan, write and edit a chapter, not to mention answer all the reviews! xD. I hope doing it in three days is also acceptable. See ya next time!

booklover1798 - Ah, but what good is a story without some drama ;). Vanir and Faolin will get their due in time, don't worry. Thank you for the review and see ya next time!

thedemonkid - Everybody must hate Faolin! (I don't get FxA shippers anyways ;p). I hope this chapter was also to your liking. I guess I will hear all about it in your next review!

Dragon Junke74 - No problem man, being in that dark place is hard. Just realize that the darkness is a tool, not a limitation. Death-by-fanghur is actually quite a creative way for him to go, but I think I will keep him alive as a vegetable, just to prolong his suffering ^^. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Oooooh, did somebody say pizza? Damn, you made me want pizza now. Welp, better go preheat the oven. Just the fact that you are still around makes me happy enough. I won't die because you missed a chapter xs. Thanks for the review though and see ya next time!

Elemental Dragon Slayer - I have a plan for the ExA thing. An amazing, breathtakingly sad plan with the most beautiful ending imaginable... at least, that's my opinion. It will involve some hurtful words, Eragon being selfless to a fault and a sacrifice or two. That's all I will say. I hope the story continues to intrigue and to see you next time!

orca3553 - well, your waiting is at an end! I hope you enjoyed and to see you around again next time!

David727 - You missed the clue in chapter... 13 if I'm guessing right xs. In short: Eragon is frowned upon by the 'common' people because of his unusual appearance. To close the gap between them and him he needs a puppet, a face that the people listen to, but who follows his commands. Nemeya is the first of a few individuals who will fulfill this role. By having her present at important moments and locations, he is gradually increasing her sway over the people. Stop with the goddamn harem! We haven't even moved this story to the M section yet! Let me make it absolutely clear there is going to be no ExN... except maybe in some spinoff standalone one-shot or something, if I ever feel like it. She will not die lonely, but her partner will not be Eragon. Thanks for the review though! And see ya next time.

Stubbsie8 - Monday turned Sunday... or actually very early Monday where I live (it's 1 a.m. as I'm writing this right now). It's good to hear so much positive feedback. I was planning on making an independent story after I finish this (which will likely take me another year or so at this rate xD) and it's people like you who give me the confidence to do that. Thank you and see ya next time!

Ky111 - Hmm, maybe I will have Saphira bite of his booty and feed it to the Fanghurn. Roran is actually a very solid option, but it would remove a large part of the canon. (A part I did not particularly like, by the way), so I don't really know how to feel about that. As you have no doubt noticed by now Ajihad is... ehm... (no spoilers)... so... yeah. Thanks for the input and I would like to hear more about your idea's. See ya next time!

diabolo88000 - Well, here it is! I hope you enjoyed it! See ya next time and stay shiny!

HomoForElmo - RIP in peace, u was a decent quickscoper. Instead of mountain dew I think I will stick to my steaming cup 'o coffee tho. And instead of Dorito's I will eat my cookie. Whatever you do, make it epic.

Mad hatter - I have something very _very_ cool in mind for magic used on Eragon, but you will find out more about that in the future. Catharsis will begin soon. Place the countdown on three chapters. Place-putting of Vanir will not take long - possibly already next chapter. Icarus has tutored Eragon well in the art of bad-assery. Thank you for the review and see ya next time!

sprtgln - If you truly do not wish to join us... then you are against us. Though I am not a JB fan (and was _not_ planning to find out how that particular song goes), I can understand what you are saying. There will be a few more of those moments, so you better break out the tissues! Thank you for the kind words and see ya next time!

rsmusemees - Well, if it's good it's worth waiting for, right? xD. Faolin will be the proof that you can hit rock-bottom and still be accelerating, don't worry. If you have anything particular in mind, don't hesitate to tell me (PM works as well if you would rather not have the rest of the world see it). Please, ask all the questions you want, but I will answer the one you have asked now. Yes, the teleportation is Elena's ability. Though the power will grow, I don't see Eragon going _much_ further than he does now. If he could just walk across Alagaesia in a single second that would be pretty story-breaking. More frequently will be happening though, until he zips across the battlefield like a shadow. See ya next time!

Vizual-Era - Yeah, I figured breaking down the Eragon we all know completely would not do well. I want him to come across as a mesh between his original character and a completely cold, omnipotent being. A bit of both as to not be completely story-breaking (because, honestly, the way Paolini had him was simply pathetic at times). The character trait you mentioned will actually end up bringing ExA together, so you get to see how that plays out! Thank you for the review and see ya next time!

Tamerlorde85 - Waiting is done. Chapter is of arrived. I hope you found it to be to your satisfaction! See ya next time and stay shiny.


	17. Chapter 17

Helllooooo everyone! We broke the 200 review mark! *confetti* I want to thank you all so much for helping us get here. Your support means the world to me and it's humbling in a way you can't even begin to fathom. Because I have heard some confusion about events, I will give you a quick recap of what has happened up until now, For those not interested, skip right ahead to the first line to begin reading this chapter. Cheers!

Eragon gets killed by flying shrapnel as Arya teleports in the egg. An entity by the name of Icarus takes over and turns him into something vaguely resembling a shade. He travels to Teirm with Brom, on the way finding out he can't use magic as it will literally backfire on him. In Teirm he meets Angela, who turns out to know Icarus and her werecat shares a prophecy with Eragon. One of the spirits inside him points out three captured elves in Gil'ead (Arya, Faolin and Glenwing) and Eragon sets out to rescue them. During the breakout Glenwing sacrifices himself and he ends up face to face with Murtagh, Galbatorix's rider. Murthag, not voluntarily in the king's service, gives Eragon the last remaining dragon egg. Eragon rushes to the Varden, pursued by Durza. The Urgals attack, Durza perishes, but Arya sustains a grave injury to her back. Judging there is no time to waste, Eragon journeys to the home of the elves in search of further knowledge and power. Enter chapter 17.

* * *

Eragon hadn't known what to expect from the elven capital, but the sheer splendor of it was befitting of the gravity the name carried. It was as if time had stood still here, the trees forever green and – or at least so he thought – almost… glowing.

' _Would you define this as a 'warm' welcome?'_ Eragon asked as he knelt on the floor, eyes glued to the fallen leaves in front of his feet. The elves around him quarreled ceaselessly and at some point he decided to simply tune it out.

' _I have no idea what you are complaining about.'_ She replied with a slurry voice. It was an ironic reply, for she was currently being fed copious amounts of mead – per her request – elsewhere. It appeared that despite all their splendor and righteousness, elves considered dragons above the law.

' _Are you drunk?'_ Eragon asked, somewhat amused.

' _Perhaps slightly tipsy.'_ She replied. _'But this elf is very good at tummy-rubs. We must abduct him when we return to the Varden.'_

' _I'll consider it. I believe the elves have reached a consensus.'_

"Enough! I will not have it, lord Villon, you will stand down immediately. We cannot afford to make this rider our enemy." The regal female on the knotted throne spoke.

"Just look at him! No normal being, man, elf or dwarf, has eyes like that. Queen Islanzadí, you cannot allow a murderer to roam freely, much less when he refuses to give-"

"Oh you are welcome to collect." She interjected. "Isn't he, Eragon?"

"Of course, your majesty." He supplied, before resuming his silent kneeling position.

"There is no need to spill blood, his memory will suffice." Villon replied.

"I don't-" Islanzadi caught Eragon's eyes. "Fine. Don't say you have not been warned. Eragon, please rise." He rose to his feet, squaring his stature again.

"I warn you one last time. You cannot enter my mind. Nobody can."

"And why might that be?" Lord Villon stated arrogantly.

"My secrets are my own. I have already sworn I mean you and your people no harm."

"You speak the words in our language and so you believe them to be true yourself, but I would much rather judge the truth of them myself."

He sighed; it seemed Villon had to burn himself before he believed the stove was hot. "Everyone here is my witness; I swear not to purposefully fight, hinder or hurt lord Villon when he tries to examine my memory." Eragon stated in the ancient language. One by one the elves around him nodded. "Queen Islanzadí, please call your healers. Villon is about to immerse himself in his own private universe of pain." He added as he felt Villon's mind approach his own.

"You sound very confident for-" The familiar shift, surge of power and then nothing but lord Villon screaming on the ground, clutching his head in both hands.

Islanzadí winced. "Not my preferred method to deal with disputes, but I suppose it will have to do. You are all dismissed." The Queen said, clapping in her hands. Two elves approached from the shadows to carry the hurt elf off to places unknown, though it was most likely the sick-bay. "Eragon, I would speak to you privately."

"What is it you would have of me, your majesty?" He replied.

"As the last remaining free rider, I permit you to speak to me as an equal, Eragon. I don't need another worm squirming before me. I need an ally with a spine."

"You are also many hundreds of years my senior, my lady." Eragon replied.

"That is not what I meant with 'spine'. If you have any sense of self preservation," Islanzadí replied with a look that told him not to fight her at this, "you would do well to remember _never_ to bring up a woman's age. Come now, walk with me. I would ask that Saphira join us two leagues west of here." Eragon quietly communicated with his dragon who, although displeased she had to leave her harem, agreed to meet them there. When they were out of ear-shot of the other elves she continued. "I know that three… two of my people reside with the dwarves, participated in the battle you spoke of and-"

"You want to know how your daughter is doing." Eragon stated, cutting to the chase.

"I was not aware you knew, forgive me. My daughter and I have not spoken for a long time. I did receive a report she wrote upon her recovery, but I would know of what transpired since." She replied, doing a surprisingly good job at catching herself. Then again, with centuries of ruling experience, it had to be expected.

"Hopefully she wasn't too harsh. She hasn't exactly… taken a liking to me when she found out what I had to do to break her out." Eragon replied. It was an attempt to prolong the inevitable and he knew it, but damn did this family have a knack for getting awful news delivered to them by him.

"Her report was rather impartial and factual, if you were truly curious. She detailed all events since you broke her out of Gil'ead, for which you have my sincerest gratitude."

He supposed that was the best he was going to get. "I suspect," Eragon began, "you are about to see your daughter again real soon. Likely as soon as she is… fit to travel again."

Islanzadí's step faltered for a moment. The only sign that betrayed a minute amount of care for her daughter's fate. "I thought the Varden had healers too, or at least Faolin could have taken action." She said, tone flat.

"She fought valiantly." Eragon replied solemnly. "Queen Islanzadí, I know this must sound incredibly rude, but I'm afraid I must ask this of you. I can tell you exactly what happened to Arya and why. I shall even tell you why you look at me with distrust even now. All I ask in return is-"

"My silence, I understand." He watched a shiver run down her spine as she righted herself and took a deep breath. No doubt the motherly half was waging a war with the part of her that was queen. The mother in her apparently won for she said: "You shall have it. I swear to keep your secret until you release me from my oath." Part of Eragon had expected it to be harder to pull those words from the mouth of the elven monarch, but he was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Eragon took a deep breath. "Part of the blame befalls me. Had I been faster, known what Durza was doing quicker, I might have reached her before he overpowered her. When he felled her, his sword carved her back open, shoulder to hip. Not much later I succeeded in killing the king's shade. When a shade dies, the spirit of the original inhabitant of the body is shattered into many tiny pieces. Normally those fragments are harmless, but in Arya's weakened state they managed to weave themselves into her body, amassing around the weakest area in her body."

"Her back." Islanzadi said, nodding in understanding.

"Together with Angela, a herbalist I met in Teirm, I labored for hours, deep into the night, to save her life. Though we succeeded in halting the spread of Durza's taint, we have no way of removing it. Conventional magic will cause immeasurable damage if applied to the wound, hence her slow recovery. She will never make full recovery." Eragon watched carefully as Islanzadí absorbed the news. Throughout the conversation he had watched her face shift from disbelief to horror, but Islanzadí knew it had to be true for they had conversed in the ancient language.

"I- that is- thank you, Eragon. For saving my daughter's life. Twice now." She said, her voice still betraying no emotion. "I have wronged her so much." She whispered. "When-"

"The worst pain will have subsided by now. Perhaps in six or seven days. Eight if she travels slowly."

"It is… disconcerting to speak with someone with as sharp a mind as you."

"Believe me, you are not the first or the last one to have though or said that. Now I hate to bring politics up in the middle of such a delicate conversation, but I fear that if I don't speak about it now, I will not get the chance to do so again any time soon."

"What is it that you want?" Islanzadi asked.

"The elves have severed their support to the Varden – no doubt as a result of Arya's capture – but without it they will falter and fall. Ajihad has expressed a sincere wish for you to reconsider."

"Of course. I shall give the order come morning." Islanzadi replied without hesitation. "Now terrible as what has happened might be, you have spiked my interest. How did you come to know so much about the inner workings of shades?"

"Well, for starters, you could technically consider me one." And so Eragon detailed everything about himself and Icarus as he had done twice before to Brom and Nemeya.

"Icarus…" Islanzadí said when he finished. "I do recognize that name, though I would not remember where or when I saw it. However unfortunate the events that led you here, it does present an opportunity. Galbatorix will have no idea what to expect. No way to prepare for what you will bring to his doorstep." She halted in the middle of a seemingly unimportant clearing. The air around them stirred as Saphira came in for a landing, though it was not as graceful as Eragon was used to.

' _You are definitely drunk.'_

She sent him a death glare. _'Quit it.'_

Their bickering was interrupted when Islanzadí spoke again. "You asked for my silence, now I ask for yours. Swear not to reveal what you are about to see next, unless I, my family or anyone who may succeed me releases you from your vow. Saphira, our laws don't apply to you, but I would still beg of you to practice the same discretion."

"And I swear it to be so. Saphira knows like no other that secrets are important."

' _We are, after all, nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal to those around us.'_

"Very eloquently spoken." That was likely to be the highest praise ever to have fallen form the queen's lips. Eragon and Saphira didn't have a lot of time to think about it. The air around them swirled and shifted. To Eragon it felt a lot like what happened when Saphira landed, except…

' _Why would you look at that.'_ Eragon said, glancing to the sky in awe.

' _It appears we may not be alone after all.'_ Saphira said with a thrill in her voice. They both waited, Saphira a little more impatiently than Eragon, until the large golden mass of a dragon had lumbered its way down. Atop the dragon rode an elf, long silver hair whipping around in the violent maelstroms of wind. When the man approached him it was almost a surreal experience.

"Hello Eragon. I have been watching you for a long time. I am Oromis."

' _And I am Glaedr.'_ A deep male voice boomed in his head.

" _Kneel."_ Icarus reminded him. Following the advice Eragon went down, considering what title to bestow upon the other man.

"The honor is mine, Oromis-elda." Elder, master. It seemed about right. "You already appear to be familiar with my name, and…" Saphira was hopping around Glaedr's much larger frame.

' _Saphira! For heaven's sake behave!'_ He hissed.

' _Oh hush you.'_ She replied, paying him entirely no mind.

"I… apologize for Saphira's behavior." Eragon said through gritted teeth. Instead of a reprimand his ears were greeted by laughter that tinkled like water trickling through a forest stream.

"No apologies are necessary. Saphira has lived her life knowing there was no other free dragon – much less a male. We expected nothing less. Please rise, Eragon-finrael. I would look you in your eyes when we speak. And quite unusual eyes you have indeed." Oromis said quietly when he had glimpsed into Eragon's unfathomable yet unnatural eyes.

Eragon looked right back at the elven rider. Something appeared… off. Like he was watching a beautiful flower that had been crumpled and then put back together. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the dragon's front leg to be missing as well and then he knew why the two had lived in hiding. Broken beyond repair, they could have done nothing but abide their time. He knew it would have been frustrating. He and Saphira would have likely gone mad.

"Oromis and Glaedr are a highly valued treasure of our race. For centuries they have waited and now that you have arrived, they will be your teachers." Islanzadi said.

Oromis continued to display that never-ending gentle smile. "Come, we will speak more at my hut. You and Saphira will follow us. Queen Islanzadi." He said, bowing slightly in respect before returning to Glaedr's saddle.

Bidding Islanzadí farewell he mounted Saphira who was happy enough to follow after her new-found male congener. The four of them drifted lazily over the treetops for a while before Glaedr began banking up, ascending the steep slope on the northern edge of the city. Atop the cliffs was a precariously placed small hut behind which Glaedr landed. When Eragon, who had landed a few moments after Oromis, saw the elf had set out a small table and had already helped himself to a seat.

"Welcome to the Crags of Tel'naeir. This is my home." Oromis spoke.

' _You and I will fly elsewhere, Brightscales. Your instincts may have taught you much, but I wish to see for myself what you do and do not know.'_ Glaedr boomed. Saphira, happy to oblige, spread her wings again in preparation of flight.

Eragon stood next to Oromis as they watched their dragons disappear into the distance. "She will hurt herself at some point." Eragon commented solemnly.

Oromis was silent for a long time. "Let us hope," he said eventually, "it doesn't come to that. But yes, the possibility of that happening is substantial. First I would ask you to sit with me." He said, gesturing to the chair opposite him. Doing as he was asked Eragon sat down, taking the cup of water Oromis poured for him in both hands. The sun was already low on the horizon by the time the elf spoke again. "I see you are familiar with the concept of patience."

Yeah, because Icarus had instilled that in him with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "I would like to think that's the case."

"Show me your hands." Though the request was odd, Eragon did as asked, holding out his hands. Oromis took hold of his right hand and studied it up close. "Strange…" he said. "Hands can tell a lot about the life of someone. Usually there are callous spots, curvatures or dents that are telltale of repeated activities. Your hands, however, are clean. Almost like those of a newborn."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Eragon replied with a sigh. "There is something you should know about me. Or rather, everything that you see now that _isn't_ me."

There was a look of concern on Oromis's face. Not of concern for himself or whatever plans the elves may have cooked up, but genuine concern for Eragon. "Your secret will be safe with me." He said.

"You already noticed my eyes are… unusual." First Eragon began to explain how he had found Saphira's egg. "Arya doesn't know this, and I would beg of you to keep it that way, but when she… unintentionally killed me, someone – something saved me. An ancient entity by the name of Icarus."

"Please tell me you didn't strike a bargain with him." Oromis said, suddenly sharp.

"Not a bargain, no. You are the third person I came across who recognizes the name. If I may ask, where did you hear it?"

"First tell me what he did to you, then I will tell you."

"Well, he used himself to tether my soul to my body, along with twenty-eight spirits. He is now intertwined in my very being, having turned me into something remotely resembling a shade. Though the procedure saved me I have been… altered."

"Altered how."

Eragon's gaze fixed on the horizon. "I am discovering new things every day, but the most significant changes are to my mind and to my magic. Anything and everything my mind touches gets… shredded on a spiritual level – you can ask Islanzadi about lord Villon's folly if you'd like. I warned him not to do it, but…" Eragon winced, imagining the sheer pain. "As for magic, anything I cast gets reflected straight back at me. I found that out the hard way when I tried casting 'brisingr' for the first time."

"What happened?" Oromis asked, genuinely interested.

"When Brom and I left for the Varden, we were ambushed by Urgals. I had heard Brom whisper the word a few times to get the campfire started. At first I thought he was just swearing in dwarvish, but in the heat of battle, it just kind of… came to me. I blew up the town square, twelve Urgals and myself. Thanks to Icarus's magic I have become more resilient, but I still spent the next two weeks covered in open blisters. My back still carries the marks."

"May I see?" Eragon nodded and rose, pulling off his shirt and exposing his lean body to the air. He generally never gave much thought to the wing-shaped scars on his back. They didn't hurt and felt like natural skin, but they remained discolored.

After putting on his shirt again Eragon continued his story, up until and including the fate of Arya. "I am not helpless, though. Icarus resorted to teaching me the rudimentaries of sorcery. It's not elegant, but in a tight spot it gets the job done."

Oromis gestured to the blades Eragon had put down on the table upon disrobing. "Those are his blades, aren't they?" The younger rider nodded.

"He has been teaching me how to wield them."

"How much do you know about Icarus?" Oromis asked, rising from his chair and walking to look out over the city sprawled out below them.

"He used to be a powerful general in a distant past, created the Hadarac desert on a whim, sang the adult population of two cities into the ocean because they were about to go to war, became entrapped as a spirit and is now looking for a way out."

Oromis nodded thoughtfully. "Then you already know more than I do. Elves have a children's song, nobody is quite sure where it came from or who wrote it, but it's ancient. It tells a tale of a young boy who gets lost in the woods and finds – excuse me, I'm getting carried away. In short, Icarus strikes a deal with the boy and it ends badly. All myths hold a grain of truth and at one point I felt compelled to find out how much of this particular tale was true. In the library I found a nearly disintegrating tome describing several bargains between elves, mortals and Icarus. When you mentioned him, I was worried you had done something similar, but what you described isn't remotely close to what those deals entailed."

" _One of my lesser moments. I hoped to create a… spirit bomb of sorts. I stole their souls in an attempt to blow mine to shreds. Didn't work."_

"Are you interested to hear what Icarus has to say about it?" Eragon asked Oromis.

"You can talk to him?"

"As I said, he is as much part of me as the hair on my head. To speak to me is to speak to him. His spirit appears to be especially… resilient to dying. In an attempt to end his existence he tried to drown himself in the spirits of others." Oromis fell silent opposite him.

' _Saphira, are you there?'_ Eragon asked. It was silent for a while until he received an absentminded

' _hmm?'._

' _Should we tell them about the egg?'_

It was silent for a while. _'No. It was entrusted to us and we will announce its existence when we have figured out what to do with it.'_ Appearantly Oromis was done processing all he had said for he spoke once again.

"Very interesting… I'm sorry Eragon, this is all a bit much to take in. I have a lot to think on tonight." After a while he turned to face Eragon and said: "well, I don't see my teachings of magic being of much use to you and you appear to be fluent in the ancient language. That means I can only teach you two more things. The knowledge and skills you will need as a rider and to extend your mind beyond yourself. However, I would first like you to draw your swords."

"Do you intend to spar with me?" Eragon asked.

"That I do indeed." The older rider replied, unsheathing a golden blade he retrieved from his hut. "I would like to see for myself how good you are with those." He added, gesturing to the curved blades of Umbra and Aurora

"Then I must ask you to dull my blades for me. As aforementioned, the magic to do it myself eludes me." Oromis made short work of the spell and took stance opposite him. When the elf struck it wasn't even challenging. He appeared to be fighting with the speed of a human, not the fluid grace of what he was used to. Although Oromis's form was flawless, it took Eragon less than two moves to disarm and hold at sword point.

For a moment the smile on Oromis's face faltered. "Well fought, Eragon. I- it has been a while since I crossed blades with anyone. I wish I could do more for you, but something has been… broken inside of me. I used to be one of the best swordsmen in the Order. It is disconcerting to see how far I have fallen. I will find you a more suitable sparring partner for tomorrow."

"What did they do to you." Eragon asked with a mixture of anger and sympathy.

"There is no use opening up old wounds. It cannot be changed anymore." Oromis replied, unable to hide the sadness in his eyes. "Saphira and Glaedr will return soon. You are to go to the sparring field at dawn and come to me immediately after you finish there. Your training as a rider will officially commence tomorrow."

Much later that night, after they had eaten – Saphira somewhere in the woods after a successful hunt – and his dragon had drifted to sleep, Eragon knelt in front of the open window and prepared himself. _"Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion."_

The room he arrived in was in complete and utter disarray. People were running around to and fro, seemingly without any coordination. Eragon carefully sidestepped a particularly engaged errand boy as he ran across the courtyard. Just when he was convinced there was no way he was going to find out what was going on he noticed Brom's weathered form on the steps to his far left. He quickly moved and, brushing his fingers across Brom's forearm, said: "Find a more quiet spot."

Brom's eyes darted arount suspiciously before he carefully backed into a dark corner. Eragon followed and, once they were out of sight, firmly grasped Brom's upper arm. "Brom, it's me." He said, looking the old man in the eyes.

"Eragon?" Brom half exclaimed in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I told you I had ways to circumvent elvish wards, didn't I? Now can you please tell me what is happening? It's like the queen is in labor."

Brom's face darkened. "It's Ajihad."

"What about him?"

"They found him strung up by his intestines this afternoon – Urgal handywork. The council cannot exert enough pressure on the individual entities that form the Varden and with no suitable replacement the armed forces are threatening to shatter. To make things worse Arya and Faolin left for their homeland this morning. The soldiers are convinced their alliance with the elves is dead and they are doomed."

"Oh god…" Eragon replied, feeling sick to his stomach. "Well, the only bright spot in this mess is that I have convinced Islanzadi to renew her support to the cause. Do you need me to return-"

"No, don't even think about it. Your training is absolutely vital. Meanwhile I will pressure the council to quit while they are ahead and pull a replacement for Ajihad out from beneath the rug." Brom interjected.

"You…" Eragon whispered.

"What?"

"You. It should be you who takes over Ajihad's seat."

"Eragon, you must realise I am in no way fit to lead. I am old and-"

"The Varden need stability, especially now. You said so yourself. They know you, trust you. You have fought Galbatorix for _years_. Pushing someone new and unknown to the forefront will only cause further harm. If anything do it while a permanent replacement is being trained. As a founder of the Varden the council can't even fight you on the matter." Eragon begged.

Brom looked conflicted still. "I don't know Eragon…"

"If you don't I will fly right back and _make_ you."

Brom remained silent. "Half a year." He replied eventually. "That's all you will get from me. Half a year before someone else takes over. And I get to pick my replacement."

* * *

Stubbsie8 - You will see ExA next chapter, pinky swear! In three chapters maybe a first kiss, who knows ;). Ellesmera didn't really come into play _that_ much this chapter, but that will also change in chapters to come. As always I appreciate the kind words and hope to see you next time!

Dragon Junkie74 - veep? What does veep mean xD. I hope you have fun with your cousin and may the coffee be tasty! See ya next time.

orca3553 - What? The elves were _not_ supposed to enter his mind? Oops. Faolin will not become a vegetable that way though. That would be too quick. I want him to suffer a little first...

crooker - That's gonna make for some really sucky text though xD. Should I stop using interpunction while I'm at it? Would save a bunch of time also.

Watchman1 - I put up a little summary at the very beginning for you to read through. Just thought I'd put it there for anyone else who was confused to see as well. If you have any further or more detailed questions, please _do_ send me a PM. This way I just hoped to get it out of the way for the general public as well. Now I have a confession to make... I also hate the dwarves xs. Good thing for you I guess, because that means you won't be seeing that much of them ^^.

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Damn, man! For some reason my PC displayed only the one comment, but on my phone I did see you posted more things, so I will get around to those now (sorry!). Regarding sorcery: Yes, but what use would that be. Sorcery relies on latent, already present energy. Imagine it like a water-pipe. The amount of sorcery you can perform is dependent on how wide the pipe is. Wider pipe, more powerful sorcery. It's an inherent quality that varies from person to person, but will never change. Much unlike magic, which requires you to use your _own_ energy. Earlier on in the story Eragon found out that the spirits inside him act as a mirror, which means all magic he casts is reflected back at him. He found this out when casting 'brisingr' (ouch). You will see brisingr in a way. You will be seeing the vault of souls. Arya will be fairly canon (except for the fact she _will_ be engaged in a relationship with Eragon). And I think I will stay 67.921% true to the books. Feel free to ask more questions next time xD.

JaYDN78 - Thank you for all the kind words! They truly do help to keep me going and keep delivering for you guys. Keep at it and stay shiny!

Tamerlorde85 - First off, thanks. Secondly, on a horse somewhere between Tronjheim and Ellesmera. Third, super shiny. Thank you and see ya next time :D.

thedemonkid - Yeah I wasn't too sure how people would receive it, but it didn't seem like a strange or extraordinary thing for Eragon to do, notwithstanding the circumstances.

sprtgln - Yeah, you wanna go at it? I'll bring shady and the gang. We gon' beatchu up! ;). Pillows, tissues, boy/girlfriends. Anything will do to cry on I guess. I totally agree we should refer to... that guy... as _him_ from now on. Two more chapters until super-feels, so brace yourself! Thanks as always and stay shiny!

HomoForElmo - dont 'cha wish your girlfriend was hot like my coffee... wait, that's not how that song went...

rasmusemees - I'm sorry rasmusemees-san, but good-writing-sensei told me to put the filler chapter! If that is your definition of bad-ass, then you will see Eragon being bad-ass a _lot_ from now on. I didn't just implement that mechanic so he could jump out of the way of sorcery every time! I hate deadlines though, but sometimes I need them to force me to continue xD. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Mad hatter - I appreciate you sharing your honest concern. Though I will not defend my story (you are free to your own opinion after all), I will try to address your concerns. The next two or three chapters will be very ExA centric, so don't you worry about that. You will also be seeing Orik, but not in the place you expected him to. Patience! ;). I just didn't want to drag my readers through two chapters of mediocrily written travel stories. Whether the Varden distrust him or not, I don't know, but I honestly thought the whole fealty thing was _seriously_ a load of bullcrap, so that will never be happening. I hope this didn't come across as passive-agressive, because it's seriously not meant that way, just as an open response to an equally open review. As for the remained of your questions, you found out the answers in this chapter ^^. Thank you as always and see ya next time!

Nat - Your praise is humbling, I truly thank you for the kind words. Now for your questions: 1) soon. 2) yes. 3) yes. 4) I haven't decided yet. 5) I haven't decided yet. 6) Yes, I don't know when yet. 7) I haven't decided yet. 8) Yes. A rather short reply to a lengthy review, but I don't know what else to say (it's 1.13 a.m, blame me xD). Thank you for the review though and I hope to see you again next time!

David727 - Oooh, I see. Sneaky reviewers being sneaky ;). I mean, shame on you! Thank you and see ya next time!

booklover 1798 - Faolin and Vanir in a douche-off. I like they way you think, but that might be more of a stage two thing xD. We will see how I can have them end up in a rap-battle. Maybe a bonus chapter...

Ky111 - So as you see the elves have... mixed feelings about him. Thought that would add another nice edge of drama. Obviously Oromis can't teach Eragon all he has taught him in the books, but we will improvise. Now everyone knows Ajihad is dead. And what that means for the Varden. More interestingness and chaos to follow I presume xD. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Vizual-Era - Well, define 'soon'. I write as fast as I can without making the quality of the story suffer. More abilities to be introduced soon. Very soon... muhaha ha hahahaha!

OechsnerC - Well, the wait is over. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Guest - Well, you have no name... I guess I will be calling you Hans from now on! I have no idea where Luneberg is (please name closest major city), but I'm sure it's a lovely town. Most places in Germany are lovely - especially since the beer comes in .5L glasses ;p. It's the reviews like yours that push me forward so keep it up and you will see me reach the end of the cycle. I have some vague idea's for Roran, but Glaedr and Oromis will be filling a fairly canon role in the story. Except of course it will end with a twist, otherwise it wouldn't be my material you were reading. Almost anything eh?... let's find the line where you stop praising me then xD. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!


	18. Chapter 18

Hello boys and girls, welcome back! There is not much to say other than thank you to all the reviewers and please enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Even though rumor was that time stood still in the forest from time to time, the last three weeks had flown by in a haze. If Icarus had led him to believe he had little left to learn, Oromis had proven him wrong by a long shot. He smiled at the thought of how relatively naïve he had been at the very beginning of his training. At the end of the first day Oromis had asked him a very simple question, namely what Saphira had been doing all day. To his own surprise Eragon had not known the answer. In the following weeks Glaedr and Oromis had turned him and Saphira into a tight-knit partnership and taught them how to be apart if necessary.

Although it had been a journey of discovery for Oromis as well, they had devised a training regime for Eragon's mind, enhancing his already formidable latent abilities. To be honest, the results were rather… scary. Now, a week before the Agaeti Blödhren, the celebration of the blood oath when the elves and the dragons melded their souls together, Oromis had deemed it agreeable to give him a day off. They had been told to prepare gifts and though Saphira was already hard at work – and frustratingly enough wouldn't tell him what she was making – he was still stuck without inspiration.

That, however, was a matter for another time for he had a much more important task today. Between the trees ahead of him lay the practice field. The place held a rather fond memory for him. On the first day he had gone there as instructed and sure enough an elf was waiting for him, sword in hand. A small crowd had gathered on the sidelines, no doubt to witness the fight. His demeanor reminded him somewhat of another elf he knew…

"Ah, you must be Eragon. Allow me introduce myself, I am Vanir. It is a pleasure to meet you at last." The elf said, insincerity dripping from every word.

' _I though elves were supposed to be tolerant.'_ Saphira said.

"You and Fäolin must be from the same family." Eragon remarked in reply.

"What makes you say that?" Vanir asked mockingly.

"He also failed to respect his betters." Where a human crowd would have riled with laughter or anger, the elves remained surprisingly quiet, eyes wide at the implied insult. Vanir's eyes grew wide in anger.

"You would dare?" The elf's voice was stretched so thin it was almost a hiss.

"Just dull my blades and let's get this over with." Ergon answered, extending Umbra and Aurora.

"What, can't even cast a simple spell? You are even more pathetic than I thought. If you can't do it yourself you deserve every wound I will inflict on you." Vanir said before flying at Eragon, sword raised.

' _If I kill him the elves will be angry with me, won't they?'_ He asked Saphira.

' _I think a simple humiliation will suffice here. I will not have my sleep disturbed every night by you and Icarus only to see you fail here.'_ Was her sober reply.

Deciding not to play all his cards at once, Eragon maintained a defensive. He blocked blow after blow, trying to make it appear as if he was faltering. "So weak, so pathetic. It should have been one of our people, humans are not worthy of becoming a rider." Vanir spat.

' _Alright, I'm done with this pimp.'_ Eragon said, before catching Vanir's sword in the hook of Umbra. With lightning speed he moved Aurora diagonally, barely grazing Vanir's skin. "That would have been your sword hand severed."

Instead of giving up, however, Vanir continued to bash away at him with renewed vigor. After several more swift motions Eragon marked both of Vanir's kneecaps, a deeper than intended gash on his neck and a pinprick over his heart. "It's best you stop now before you humiliate yourself even further, Vanir." Eragon replied, not even breathing heavily as the elf opposite him panted.

Perseverance was an admirable trait, but in Vanir it began to border foolhardiness. This time when the elf's sword came down, Eragon made a scissor-like motion with his twin blades, aiming for the weak spot he had created at the base of Vanir's sword over the duration of their 'fight'. Putting some effort into the motion he managed to break the sword, almost like a twig. Vanir stared dumb folded at the ground where the now useless blade of his sword lay in the grass. The fight was over in twenty counts flat.

"Pathetic display. You disgrace your kin with that attitude. Now get out and make sure your replacement actually poses a challenge." Eragon said with a quiet voice. For good measure Saphira growled at the shaken elf as he left the practice field, causing him to break out into a run. "I want all of you to know I do not hold his actions against any of you. Learn from his mistake and do not presume me weak. I understand there are… differences between us, but all I can do is extend my hand. It's up to you to take it." He said before hopping on Saphira's saddle and flying off.

' _Well said, little one.'_

Sure enough, another elf was there the next morning. He introduced himself as Illium. Not only was he much more well mannered than Vanir, he was also a far more skilled swordsman. Eragon found himself appreciating Illium's quiet and to-the-point demeanor and later found out he served as Islanzadí's sword-hand. Though their relationship was restricted to the practice-field, the young rider found himself quickly warming up to the elf.

Over the three weeks following he had met many of the elves who had watched his first fight with Vanir and thankfully most of them had proven to be of a different ilk than him. Today the field was empty, save for a single figure in the middle who was slowly practicing swings. A person he had faithfully though quietly watched every day since the day he had met her. Eragon was careful not to make any noise as he approached. Quietly he unsheathed Aurora and, quickly stepping forward, caught Arya's swing.

She turned in surprise, drawing her blade closer to her body. If he had to describe the look on her face it was something akin to a deer just before his arrow hit home. "You." She whispered.

"We have some unresolved issues, so this is your chance. Show me what you've got." Eragon replied.

Where others would have seen his words as an insult, she took the opportunity with both hands and bounced into action. She was fast, she was furious. Eragon found himself with very little opportunity to retaliate. _'Perfect.'_ He thought as she managed to nick his cheekbone. Fighting with her made it feel like more than brutal necessity. It was as if crossing blades with her made him come… alive.

' _Don't get carried away now.'_ Saphira replied.

Eragon was just about to tell her off for ruining his moment when he noticed a minute shift in her pose as she leaned back just a fraction in preparation for her next swing. The blow never came. Her mouth was open in a silent scream as she collapsed to the ground, her form twitching uncontrollably. Dropping his blades on the ground Eragon knelt down beside her. The moment he reached out to her she pushed him away. "Leave!"

"But Arya-"

"I said leave me alone!"

"Arya please."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" She sobbed as wave after wave of pain racked through her small frame.

"Because I'm too stubborn to accept you don't want me." Eragon said before realizing what words fell from his lips. "I- I'm sorry, that was out of place. I will go now." He added, quickly rising to his feet and clearing the practice area. If she needed help, she could reach out with her mind to any one of her friends after all.

' _Smooth.'_ Saphira commented.

' _There will come a day this whole thing comes to bite you in the ass too you know.'_ Eragon replied coolly before heading off to his home. For some odd reason he hadn't quite been able to fathom yet, Islanzadí had deemed it fit to give him Vrael's old tree home at the edge of Ellesmèra. Now that he had successfully blown apart _any_ chance, however slim, that he and Arya would ever work out, he hoped he could sulk the rest of the day in peace over there.

' _Do you want to go flying later? It'll take your mind off things.'_ Saphira asked.

' _No.'_ He felt her concern. He never turned down a chance to go flying with her. Eragon was thankful she chose to let it go this time.

" _Icarus?"_

" _Hmm?"_ was the quiet reply.

" _I need to take my mind off things and I have been thinking. What Angela said, about your voice, is it true?"_ Eragon asked.

It was silent for a while. _"Yes."_

Eragon was about to ask 'all of it?', but he held himself back. _"I… would be honored if you would teach me."_

" _Why would you want me to teach you how to sing?"_

" _With the Agaetí Blödhren approaching I find myself stuck without any inspiration."_

" _It's not_ that _easy, Eragon. Though I don't want to come across as rude, your voice is hardly suited for singing. It's simply the way your body is put together."_

Eragon knew what he was about to do was very stupid and very reckless, but he felt that he needed to punish himself for his own stupidity. _"So change it. You have done it before so I know you can do it."_

" _It would be very painful."_

" _Then prove to me that I can still feel anything. After what just happened I don't think I can anymore."_

" _I really don't think that's a good idea. You are not thinking clearly right now."_

" _Would my voice change much?"_

" _Not beyond the point of being unrecognizable as your voice no, but-"_

Taking the decision on a whim, Eragon said: _"then do it."_

" _I would make your voice into a weapon. You cannot ask anybody a question anymore expecting an honest answer for they would be swayed by the phrasing of it alone. Never will you know if someone is around because of you, or because they became addicted to the sound of your words. Your voice would become more compelling than a thousand blades together. Is that truly something you wish for?"_

" _You turned me into a sorcery-wielding, mind-shredding demi-shade. I don't think you can alienate me much further from the people of this world."_

Icarus sighed. _"Perhaps this will serve as a reminder never to cross me like this again. Just remember this was all_ your _plan."_ Icarus said. Eragon didn't get to formulate his reply however for the next moment he was on the ground, clutching his neck. Instead of cries of agony nothing but gurgling noise came out. Feeling his stomach churn he quickly rolled onto his stomach. Just in time, because he retched his whole breakfast onto the grass a moment later. The fluid came out tainted crimson with blood. The acid burned in his throat.

' _You idiot!'_ Saphira shouted as she appeared over the treetops. Not minding the damage she was causing both to herself and the forest she crashed to the ground next to him. Carefully she curled around him, covering him with her wing. _'Why do you keep doing this to yourself. Do you want me to watch you suffer?'_ She asked lamentingly.

' _Of course not.'_ He said weakly. _'I never expected it to be this… drastic.'_

' _Eragon. Why is it that I always feel as if you are slipping away from me. I want- I need you to tell me when you are doing something suicidal like this. You can't just keep this up. What we have is special Eragon, please don't taint it.'_

' _You are right, I'm sorry Saphira. Oh god I'm so sorry.'_ Eragon replied, tears forming in his eyes. Not just for her, for everything. For Arya, for Roran and Garrow, for Ajihad and for the mother he never knew. Not in ten years had he cried. At that moment the world could have broken apart and he would not have cared. So much sorrow he carried around and nobody who he could share it with. Of course there was Saphira, but he needed someone who was _part_ of his life, not _half_ of it. However it seemed that each passing day the world grew more distant and cold.

' _Hush, it's alright now. I'm not going anywhere.'_ Saphira replied, hugging him tightly to her.

" _Don't speak for the next two days and do not think this will get you out of training tonight either."_ Icarus had said as he crawled his way back to his tree hut.

He had spent those two days in relative solitude, throat swollen and sore. After speaking with Saphira, Eragon decided that in her current condition, Arya was in no shape to guard the green dragon egg. On the morning of the first he had followed the sound of steel hitting steel and found a blacksmith's shop. Although elves never aged in appearance, there was no denying there was something… ancient about this one. Her calloused hands and deep grooves in her face betrayed her to be from an age forlorn. She had not said a word when he entered her shop, barely even spared him a glance. In the courtyard she worked from stood a simple stone seat. Unable to speak, he had sat himself down on it and had contented himself in watching her work.

Now that his voice had healed to an extent where it was no longer impossible to use it, he found himself wandering through Ellesmèra for a change. There by chance, and just by chance, he came across none other than the queen herself. And she was in a temper. "Can you believe the sheer _audacity_ the man must have. He wakes up and the first thing he does is ask me to exile you. I would see him punished for this crime." Islanzadí rambled.

"I suppose it's lord Villon you are talking about?"

"Who else."

"I may not be experienced in such matters, but would you humor me regardless?" Eragon asked.

"Anything to take my mind of that fool." She muttered.

"Could you not… release him from your service? You allow this to get under your skin because you view him as a trusted advisor. Take that away from him and he will be nothing but another subordinate."

Islanzadí was quiet for a few moments. "How could I not have seen that?"

"Perhaps your anger clouded your judgement."

The queen shook her head, smiling at her own ignorance. "It is strange…" Islanzadí said. "Your voice, it seems… altered."

"Not surprising, but that's a secret I will tell you in due time. We would not want to take all intrigue out of your life, now would we."

Islanzadí chose to let it go, instead saying: "you have been here for nearly thirty days now. Tell me, what have you seen of this beautiful city?"

"Not much." Eragon was ashamed to confess. "Between Oromis's training and preparations for the celebration I have not had much chance to walk the curving paths between these trees."

"Then walk with me now." Eragon supposed there were worse tour-guides than the queen herself and as such he followed her steps dutifully.

"How fares Arya?"

"She is… silent. I know she puts on a strong face in an attempt to keep all the pity at bay. But inside, inside she is broken. Even more than she was since her capture. Not only has she been stripped of her dignity and name, but with her injury she has now also been stripped from her duty." Islanzadí replied. Eragon was both surprised ant thankful for her openness.

"It frustrates me. I know she is hurt and I truly wish-"

"There is nothing you could have done, Eragon. Thanks to you she is alive and there is nothing more a mother could ask for." They passed by a tall tree, one many times the height of the rest of the forest. "This is the Menoa tree." Islanzadí said.

"I am familiar with the legend. Oromis told me about it. I find it tragic how Linnëa chose to murder her love and sung herself into a tree."

"Perhaps, but it was she herself who crossed the final line, nobody else. In a way it is also a fitting punishment for murder. She has imprisoned herself for eternity." Together the two walked through the city, Islanzadí explaining to Eragon what he was seeing. Eventually they ended up in front of the large twine gates that led to the royal gardens and, beyond that, Tialdarí hall. Eragon, who had thought this is where his tour ended, was surprised when the queen invited him in. As they walked through the gardens Eragon found himself curious.

"I hope this question is not too intrusive or personal, but would you tell me of your youth?" He asked. Both the queen and Arya must have spent countless years of their lives roaming these gardens.

Islanzadí sat down on a stone bench and gestured for Eragon to join her. They had arrived at a particularly quiet spot overlooking a rift. Several streams tumbled over the edge in a marvelous display of colorful mist, dotted here and there by the occasional exotic flower. Behind them tall hedges provided privacy against prying eyes looking down from Tialdarí hall. "The question is indeed a personal one." Islanzadí said. "Yet since you yourself have been so open about yourself, I would be happy to return the favor. As you know we elves celebrate our children."

"Unsurprising. For an immortal race children must be a rarity."

The queen nodded in reply. "I was no exception. Though I was not born royalty, I met my mate, Evandar, when I was very young." When she mentioned the name a shadow of pain flashed over her face. "There was never another for either of us. From the moment we met until the day we were separated." The silence that followed could cleave through even the coldest of hearts.

Eragon didn't know what to do. Hugging Islanzadí felt _extremely_ out of place and words seemed unsuited for this moment. Instead he chose to ghost his hand over hers in a quiet display of sympathy and comfort.

"We were both so happy when Arya was given to us. Though we elves do not believe in gods and only place our faith in that which can be logically explained, I have always believed that someone as beautiful as her must have come from something greater." The more powerful words, that Arya was the last remaining link she had to her deceased husband, were left unspoken.

Islanzadí told various details of her youth, but it was really just a farce to cover up her true pain. Eragon wanted to ask why she had splintered her family further, why she had broken the already fragile relationship with her daughter into a thousand tiny fragments, but instead he listened quietly. Eventually the queen said she had to attend another meeting, but that he was welcome to stay for as long as he liked and left him alone.

As Eragon sat there, he found himself struck by a bout of inspiration. Quietly he began humming a tune, adding words here and there as he saw fit. His voice would once have broken and cracked, but now the tones came out clear and hauntingly pure. "That is very beautiful."

Eragon was immediately snapped out of it as he noticed he had completely failed to see Arya walk into the clearing. "My apologies." He said, rising and making to leave.

"Eragon, please wait a moment."

His mind told him to run, to find cover and never emerge again. His heart, however, was unable to resist her call. "How is your back?" Eragon asked. Unbeknownst to her he had been there every episode she had, ready to strike at anything unfriendly that might find her in her momentary weakness.

"The healers have just finished removing the sutures. According to them, Angela did a commendable job with them. I had a question, however." She said conversationally.

Eragon, knowing he was now full and well trapped, put on his best fake smile and asked. "How can I be of service?"

"I- please. I want to know more about Glenwing's end." Arya replied.

"I can't give you the memory. I would if I could, but-"

"No, just tell me about it. I doubt I would want to see him die with my own two eyes."

Eragon sighed. "After I stashed you and Fäolin away, Durza found me and chased me through the castle. Eventually he had me cornered but instead of fighting me, he brought out his latest creation."

"Glenwing."

"He had succumbed completely to Durza's will. Although he was visibly trying to fight it, he could only do as the shade commanded. And his command was to kill. My hand was forced, Arya. I don't think he was very proficient with the sword, because I easily defeated him, though I think part of it was also his own desire to find a way out."

"Glenwing's weapon of choice was the spear." Arya said quietly.

"Durza, none too pleased with the outcome of the duel, stepped in himself to finish the job. Do you remember I made small explosive pouches to bust you and Fäolin out?" Eragon asked. Arya nodded. "I had originally placed the third and last one – the one meant for Glenwing's cell – behind the door in hopes of ambushing Durza. For some reason the fuse died, but Glenwing found it. When he saw what Durza was about to do he… sacrificed himself by finishing the job."

He heard Arya take several deep breaths beside him. "Thank you. For telling me, that is. Eragon, there is one last thing. About what you said to me a few days ago."

"I already told you it was uncalled for. I shouldn't be burdening you with troubles that are clearly my own." Eragon replied, hoping to avoid the inevitable words from her mouth.

"Be that as it may, I need you to know something. Over the years I have seen love defined a thousand times over and though I'm not sure that what I feel for Fäolin is love, he has always been there for me, Eragon."

Eragon knew his next words were spiteful, would not change anything, but he had to say them. "Fäolin was not there to break you out of Gil'ead. Nor was he the one who rushed you across half Alagaésia in an attempt to save you, or the one who stopped Durza from skewering you during the battle of Farthen Dur. Fäolin did not labor for _hours_ on end side by side with Angela, still covered in the filth of battle, to make sure you lived after you sustained your wounds. He was not the one who has kept watch over you to ensure you felt safe when you were at your weakest. Where was he, Arya, when you needed him most?"

As soon as the words had rolled off his lips, Eragon left the gardens with quick strides, leaving a dumbfounded Arya in his wake. She may not love him back, but damn her if she was going to lecture him about who was and was not there for her. "Oh, and _I_ was the one who did your sutures. Not Angela."

* * *

Dragon Junkie74 - As far as I know, I do not veep. Nor am I quite sure I wish to do so xD. Yeah work has been at a bit of a seasonal low lately, so there is plenty of time for me to write. That, and I'm _really_ looking forward to writing the next chapter. You will love it, I guarantee it. May you find many more good cups of coffee in your future!

Stubbsie8 - School is out for Vanir, I suppose xD. You got to see some ExA interaction, there will be more of that in the next chapter, and maaaybeeeeeeeeeeee (eeeeeeeee) a bit of a sort of a fluffy moment in the chapter after that(?). I'm glad you approve of my decision to make Brom king of the Varden, it kind of struck me as I was writing and I decided to stick with it. As always thanks for the reivew!

lockblock - Hey! I think this is the first time I've seen you around here. Always glad to see new people join the club. Welcome and thank you for your kind words! Stay shiny.

OechsnerC - Yeah I was stuck having to kill someone, but I was fixated on _not_ having Eragon swear fealty, because that made no sense at all in the books. This simply seemed the most reasonable solution.

booklover1798 - I love myself a gruesome violent death from time to time ^^. Well, the wait is over, next update is here. I hope it was satisfactory! Thanks for the review and see ya next time.

Tamerlorde85 - Actually, i stole it from EnterElysium (you can look him up on youtube). No idea where he got it from, but I liked the sound of it :3.

crooker - Interpuntion (verb) - the act of placing a . , ; " ' ? or ! in written text.

Watchman1 - Not 'better' Eragon, 'Best' Eragon (North Korea - I mean Best Korea style). Yeah, I agree with you that the egg kinda came out of nowhere last chapter for those of us who were not _super_ alert when reading or have bad memory. It's one of the weaker points in this story, I admit it. Firnen's egg will be coming into play soon though, so you won't have to pay attention to it for much longer xD. Next two chapters will be very eventful and important, so I'm really exited to get those started. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Ky111 - Wait what? I don't entirely follow what you are trying to say about Jörmundur. Was him not being nominated stupid here or in the books? If you think in here, that is fine too and I would be glad to hear why, but right now it's a little unclear to me xD. Regardless I'm glad you liked the twist. Dumping Nasuada in the lime-light seemed like a really weird move to me in the books anyways, so yeah. Thank you for taking the time to review, though, and see ya next time!

diabolo88000 - ExA is happening very _very_ shortly. No worries! Thanks for the kind words and see ya 'round!

David727 - The war will be very different form in the books. For starters I plan the campaign to be a little more detailed, lengthy and better thought thru and to have Eragon be present on behalf of both the Varden/Dwarves and the Elves. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to make Galbatorix from the weird entity he is in the books into a prominent character yet, but I would be glad to hear any and all suggestions. I hope you found out this chapter why I wanted Eragon and Saphira to be tutored by Glaedr and Oromis. That - and a bit of fan-service of course xD. The reason he flew ahead is because there is no time to waste, but I can understand if it felt hurried and unmotivated. Sorry for that! Next to chapters will be very eventful, so get ready to get excited! See ya next time!

HomoForElmo - Oh boy! The 'feel good' noot noot remix is amazing. I think you should look into who slipped you that Cosby tho...

orca3553 - hints for wings... almost rhymes I think xD. Those wings will be coming into play very shortly. Like, maybe next chapter shortly. So buckle your seat belt Dorothy, cuz' Kansas is going bye bye!

Mad hatter - They did come across as constructive, don't worry! I try to take them and turn them into better writing, but often it's already too late as the chapter is already up xD. Those wings will grow indeed. And they will grow in the near, near, _very near_ future. I will be moving the ExA thing along sooner rather than later though. Even if it's not good for story building, I'm tired of all the gloom and doom I've been writing so far XD.

sprtgln - Well, I didn't explicitly ask, but thank you for telling me xD. What are Himiebers though? We don't have those where I come from. Althoug I could indeed make some fun pun/comment about that, I fear I would lose half my reader base if I did that, so we will have to stick to imagination for now XD. Honey, I always glow, don't you know that? My girlfriend doesn't keep me around because she loves me... Thanks for the review though, and see ya next time!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Uh... you could try posting 'I liked it' in different languages? Who knows, we could make it into a game. You put it up and I try to guess what language it was xD.

Elemental Dragon Slayer - Who knows. Maybe, maybe not. Keep reading and you will have the answer very soon. I'm not quite sure how I will deal with Fäolin yet, but It'll be a blast... maybe literally xD. Thanks for taking the time to review and stay shiny!

resmusemees - In theory, yes. If Eragon absorbs all the souls he can use magic again. Stop spoilering the end of this story for yourself though. First kiss in two chapters, pinky swear. You should review when you feel you should. Of course I like seeing positive replies to my work, but I don't want you to feel pressured to put something up every chapter just because. Now for your second question. Eragon is not _that_ much a shade. Any blow fatal to a human is still fatal to him. Thanks for the review(s) and see ya next time!

Vizual-Era - You are - in fact - thinking like a madman right now. Eragon will find a way for her, don't worry ;). Teasing is my specialty, as well as my middle name. Now let me tease you some more. Next chapter will be pivotal to the story, just like the one after that. Can't wait to write them! Fäolin will not be coming into play for a short time while I work on some other characters and ExA, but he will be making a glorious exit at some point. I just haven't figured out when yet xD. Thanks for the review and see ya 'round!

JaYDN78 - Brom's reign will, of course, end up in disaster. How else can I make Nasuada take over - I mean, that was a secret. Don't tell the writer I told you that please! Literally _everyone_ is waiting to hear Icarus's whole story and you will have it, but not in the near future I'm affraid! Thanks for the review though! Enjoy your day and stay shiny.

hamid - Yeah, Icarus is the great mystery to everyone now, isn't it? xD. I won't be giving you much in the near future. Little tid-bits here and there of course, but the major explanation will come much later. It's the reason all of you are still here and reading this after all. All your questions will be answered though, do not worry about that. I'm glad to see a returning reader and I hope to see you for many more chapters to come. Thanks for the review and see ya next time!


	19. Chapter 19

Hello everyone! Comin at 'chu with a new chapter! The song Eragon sings is a minor alteration on an existing (though really unknown) one. Let's see how many of you know it! I will post the title and artist at the beginning of next chapter to give credit and for those of you who don't know it and are interested. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers, you are amazing. Enjoy!

* * *

' _Peons, peasants and sheeple. It's disgraceful.'_ Eragon muttered.

' _Now Eragon, don't be a party pooper.'_ Saphira replied.

' _I know that at times I seem to be the only one actually_ aware _of this fact, but there is a war going on. While Brom fights we sit here and drink spirits.'_ He replied, looking over the festivities from the shadows. Perched on a branch to his left was a delicate glass filled with faelnirv, the fabled elven drink that was supposedly brewed from elderberries and spun moonbeams.

' _You should really learn to let go from time to time.'_ Saphira replied, knocking back another keg of mead.

' _And you are drunk again.'_

' _Am not.'_ Was her undignified response before toppling over. Eragon sighed as the elves around her laughed in unbridled joy. Thankfully she had already delivered her contribution to the festivities. Utilizing the training she'd received from Glaedr, she breathed fire unto a rock until the very surface of it had begun to melt. Then she'd proceeded to lick it to shape until an obsidian pillar of remarkable beauty had formed.

In all honesty he had to admit the celebration could have been much worse. Elves, it seemed, were the most tolerant to his… exotic appearance. Even Vanir had approached him somewhere and gritted out an apology for his earlier actions. Not one to hold a grudge, Eragon had accepted and so they made their peace.

At the very beginning of the ceremonies Islanzadí had presented a wonderful poem. Oromis had presented a beautifully painted scroll and Glaedr, not to be seconded by his rider, had crafted a wonderful likeness of Ellesmèra. He had already said his goodbyes to his masters. After much discussion they had decided it was best if Eragon returned to the Varden for now. Though reluctant, Oromis had given in when Eragon had sworn to return and complete his training when time permitted it. A few days later Oromis had approached him and presented him with a parting gift. A 'reminder of his predecessor' the older rider had called it before draping a cloak of flawless white over Eragon's shoulders.

Eragon had been amazed as the fabric almost felt… scaly. Upon closer inspection this indeed proved to be the case. When Eragon had looked at Oromis questioningly the elf had explained. "Vrael," he'd said, "faithfully collected the scales Umaroth, his dragon, shed. Eventually he had enough of them to make a cloak out of them as you can see. He handed it to his most promising pupil, the one he intended to be his successor when the time came. Unfortunately the cloak offers very little protection against Galbatorix's magic – as demonstrated by the deceased former owner of the cloak – but it does stop any regular blade or arrow. You will never have to watch your back in battle if you wear it."

"I cannot take this." Eragon had replied in awe.

"It was intended for the next leader of the riders. A position that has now befallen you. If anyone is worthy of wearing it, it's you." Oromis had assured him. Alongside the cloak the elf had given him a bottle of enchanted faelnirv to 'give strength in the most desperate moments.' Both items were now carefully stashed in Saphira's saddle bags.

Eragon's mind riled back to the present as he scanned the crowds. He was still not sure how to feel about Arya's absence. He knew she had not left the forest yet and her ties to the royal family would force her into the center of attention sooner rather than later. He found himself wondering what she'd made for the ceremony when Illium, his sparring partner of three weeks, approached him.

"You seem to have a knack for creating a home in the shadows." The elf said. With his blue hair, tipped with silver and eyelashes to match he was difficult to miss. Those flamboyant features, however, made his reclusive and shy nature only more noteworthy. Eragon had once asked if he had ever considered changing them with magic as he had seen many other elves do. Illium had shrugged and said they were a natural-born feature and would not hide from it. That, however, had not stopped him from being one hell of a bad-ass with a sword.

"I have never once claimed the stage, you know that." Eragon replied, taking a sip from his drink.

"Still, everyone is celebrating right now. You should join them for a change. Maybe dance with someone."

"Oh believe me; the person I would like to dance with would very much not like to dance with me." Eragon replied. "To make matters worse Saphira is drunk and I have no way out because public protocol demands it of me."

It was the first time he'd hear Illium genuinely laugh and it was a sight to behold. "Well, you will have to claim the stage sooner rather than later. It's your turn to present. Everyone is looking for you."

Eragon sighed. The inevitable moment had arrived. Why on earth had he asked Icarus to change his voice and teach him to sing? Now that it was time, he found himself unnaturally… anxious.

" _Relax. You possess the best voice of anyone on earth. Literally. I made sure of that."_ Icarus reassured him.

The voices and music around him grew quiet as he walked to the base of the Menoa tree. It was almost as if they anticipated what was about to happen. Eragon had slaved on this song for days on end, helped here and there by Icarus and Saphira. Now the work that had begun a week ago in the gardens of Tialdarí hall had bloomed into a worthy piece of art. To his surprise Icarus had offered to translate the song into a language so ancient it was unbeknownst to even the elves. The language of Icarus's birth. His people, so he had said, had purposefully designed it to weave songs. Songs that compelled, that inspired or in some _specific_ cases, killed.

The words, though strangely melodic, held an unhidden truth even stronger than the ancient language. He had tried out the song on Oromis, who, after pinking away a few tears, had told him that even though he had not understood a single word, he had completely understood the song as a whole. From where he was atop a thick root of the tree, he stood elevated over all the other elves. Islanzadí, who had welcomed him to the stage, nodded in encouragement. "I present you a song." Eragon said, capturing everyone's attention. "The words come from an age long forlorn, but fear not for you will understand each and every one of them." He added. _This one is for you, Arya._ He thought, before phrasing the first syllable.

" _The rain now falls_

 _Each drop an agony_

 _The war has come_

 _Without you next to me_

 _Oh wandring love_

 _Farther with every mile_

 _Know no defeat_

 _Through ice and dragon fire_

 _Come back to me if I fall_

 _Please believe you'd once have loved me_

 _Though you don't know me_

 _The arrows fly_

 _Points tipped in misery_

 _To ruins laid_

 _Our home our sanctuary_

 _Smoke fills the skies_

 _All world's a burning ember_

 _Shall our love die?_

 _With no one to remember?_

 _Come back to me if I fall_

 _Please believe you'd once have loved me_

 _Though you don't know me"_

There was utter silence around him. Even the birds and the insects, which had danced around the festivities, sat still. There were genuine tears on everyone's faces. Even the queen herself had failed to maintain a strong façade. _'Wow.'_ Saphira said in praise.

It took Islanzadí another full minute before she had recovered enough to thank him for his outstanding performance, remarking that he had shared with them a memory that would remain with them until the day they passed from this world. At the foot of the tree Illium awaited him. "You are a blessed man." He whispered.

"More than you will ever know." Eragon replied before finding his way back to the secluded hide-out he had created for himself. To his surprise Illium followed him there and took a seat next to him, this time equipped with his own glass of faelnirv. "Don't you have anybody to dance with?" Eragon asked.

Illium smiled. "Many have tried. Most of those girls, however, would have kept me as a trophy. Nobody has captured my heart in that way yet. Unlike you, I suppose. Who is the lucky one, if I may be so brash to ask?"

"You would laugh." Eragon replied, downing his drink.

"Then humor me."

"It's Arya."

"Oh." Illium said, suddenly silent.

"You were supposed to laugh in my face, remember?" Eragon reminded the blue haired elf.

"I never imagined- Everyone in this forest is aware of her beauty, but after all the sacrifices she has been forced to make, most consider her too cold. Too broken to handle, only to be admired from afar. All I can say is… good luck."

"Yeah thanks. That really helped." Eragon replied darkly before fetching another drink, leaving a laughing Illium in his wake. On his way something else drew his attention. On the stage stood none other than Arya herself, preparing to recite what appeared to be a poem. Though it came nowhere close to his own contribution – but who could compete with hundreds of thousands of years of experience – her work was both elegant and beautiful.

At some point in the middle of her work, she unconsciously righted herself, having slumped forward slightly over the duration of the last verse. Instead of another word however, There was only a shrill cry of pain. Eragon could only avert his eyes as she went down. He knew this was what she'd feared most. To appear weak in front of her own people. Gasps of shock riled through the crowd. And it was all _his_ fault.

" _Icarus."_ Eragon said as he watched Arya be carried off. _"There must be something, anything we can do. Don't tell me there isn't, you'd be lying."_

" _Have you considered a mercy kill yet?"_ Was the sarcastic reply.

" _If that's what it takes."_ Was Eragon's cold answer. _"Now all joking aside, tell me what I have to do."_

" _A highly inadvisable thing."_

" _Whatever it is, the world won't stop spinning if I do it."_

" _That's the whole point. It just might if you don't play your cards right."_ Icarus said.

" _So what do I have to do?"_

Icarus, who materialized in front of him laughed and sat down on a low hanging branch. Without the music on the background the forest was suddenly unnaturally quiet. Around him the elves had frozen in the middle of their dances, some of them in quite comical poses. "I also used to look at a woman that way, but it was long ago. Do you know what happened to her?"

"She died?" Eragon guessed.

"Of course" Icarus replied matter-of-factly. "But before she did, she lived a very happy, very fulfilling life. Free of the dangers and horrors of the world. Do you know why?"

"Well?"

"She never knew me. I steered clear of her wherever I could and watched over her and her children and her children's children from the shadows. Strength, Eragon, is born in solitude."

"I disagree. There is strength to be found in each other. Just because you never worked up the courage to talk to her doesn't mean your believes are absolute truth." The rider replied.

"So young. So naïve. For your sake, Eragon, I hope you prove me wrong someday." He was silent for a few moments. "You saw what happened to your eyes when I first came to you. If you press ahead now I have no way of telling where the change will end."

"I don't care. I broke her and it is my job to fix her, no matter the cost."

"Then talk to Saphira. She wanted you to tell her before you did anything… brash. And what you are about to do will unload a flood of misery on yourself you can't even begin to imagine. You know where to find me once you've made up your mind." Icarus added before disappearing again. The elves resumed their dancing.

' _Saphira?'_ Eragon asked.

' _hmm?'_

' _I need you to pull yourself together for a moment. This is important.'_

' _If you try to kill the mood one more time, I will personally lick you.'_ Saphira replied. The sharp barbs on her tongue, meant to tear flesh from bone, were deadly and painfully efficient at their job. Eragon had been amazed when he had first seen them in action and for a moment he couldn't help but involuntarily shudder.

' _You asked me to tell you when I was about to do something particularly stupid. Unless you want to take those words back, that's exactly what I am doing now.'_

' _What did he offer you this time?'_ Saphira asked, suddenly sounding a lot less slurred than before.

' _A means to free Arya from her torment. He says himself the cost is too high, but I'm gonna do it anyways.'_

' _So far he has always been right, Eragon. I don't know if going against his wishes will serve you much better than it did last time.'_

' _You have seen her suffer the same way I have. We can stop that. I can stop that. Don't you think we have a moral obligation to do so if nobody else can?'_

He heard Saphira give the mental equivalent of a smirk. _'No sacrifice too great, right?'_ She said. _'Exactly what did he say to be aware of?'_ Saphira asked.

' _He warned me my body might change an uncontrollable degree. Last time it stopped with the eyes but Icarus has no way of telling how far it will go this time.'_

' _If that clown disfigures my rider I will personally come hunt him down in the afterlife or wherever he is. Fine, meet me in your tree-home. There is no need to disrupt the activities.'_ Following her advice he carefully detached himself from the celebrations and made his way home. Once there, he sat down on the ground next to Saphira.

" _Icarus, are you there?"_

" _Always."_ Was the solemn reply.

" _I must save Arya. If I don't place others before myself, I am no better than Galbatorix."_ It was silent for a while. Then Icarus walked out from behind him and sat down across from him, his wings splayed out on the ground in an intricate tapestry of feathers.

"If you do this, you must first swear something to me." Icarus said.

"Tell me."

"First, you must promise not to approach Arya after you have healed her. With your altered voice, the only way to be sure of her intentions is if she comes to you first. Second I want you to seek Angela´s tutelage, she has skills you will find invaluable. Third, you will promise never to assume a permanent position of power other than within the order of the riders."

"I don't understand-"

"Just do it, Eragon." Icarus interrupted.

"Fine, I swear it." Eragon replied in the ancient language.

"Good." Icarus said with a deep sigh. "Alright, kill me."

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me. Kill me, absorb my soul with yours."

"But Icarus, you cannot seriously expect me to-"

"Suddenly getting cold feet? At least prove to me you have some spine, Eragon. No sacrifice to great, you said so yourself. Now man up and follow through."

"Why are you so eager to die?" Eragon asked.

Icarus laughed almost hysterically. "Have you not been paying attention to anything I have said, Eragon? I was _never_ meant to come out of this… bargain between us alive. After eons of searching for a way out, I found it. You. The only way I can be undone is I someone else takes over my legacy. As I am destined to die by your hand, you are destined to inherit what was mine. I just hoped that I could leave you behind with a more… complete training."

"But there is so much I don't know yet. About you, about the spirits inside of me, about sorcery and fighting in general. I can't do this without you."

Icarus smiled weakly. "Perhaps some things are best left forgotten. The spirits will be yours to deal with, granted, but you fill find more help in Angela than you anticipate now. You have learned much, Eragon. Although you are still by far not as good as me, you can give any swordsman a run for his money. Even Galbatorix. Instinct will guide you when it comes to healing Arya." Taking a step back, Icarus spread his arms wide. "Now take this final teaching to heart, Eragon. The end always justifies the means. Take my power because you need it, Eragon. Take me and relieve Arya from her burden."

Eragon looked at Icarus, though of the countless times those outstretched hands hat hurt and murdered him, those eyes that eluded logic and that voice that had brought down empires. And despite everything he found himself rather… fond of those memories. Icarus had been a constant factor as the world around him fell to bits and rebuilt itself. He had always been there to guide Eragon with his unfathomable wisdom. It was sad to think that endless eons of guidance and devotion had to end in such an insignificant fashion.

"Don't mourn for me Eragon. You are putting to rest the biggest monster the world has ever known." Icarus said in comfort, grasping both of Eragon's hands in his. "This had to happen sooner or later. Perhaps it is better you didn't grow more reliant on me than you already did." He added before pulling Eragon forward. "Reach forward and take what is yours."

Eragon watched with a mixture of horror and intrigue as his hands disappeared into Icarus's ribcage as if it was nothing but thin mist. He found the pulsing beat of power within the ribcage and, like handling a delicate rose, pulled it towards him. His hands came back stained red with blood and on his palm was a beating heart. It was the last thing he saw before the world turned white.

Saphira was quite alarmed as she watched her rider writhe on the ground, shouting in an unintelligible language until he suddenly went very, very quiet. _'Eragon?'_ She tried carefully. She received no reply, however, until suddenly Eragon struggled to his knees.

' _Saphira, step back, I need space.'_ He said in a rush.

' _Eragon, what's happening?'_ She asked as she stepped back. Her rider was soon too immersed in his own private universe of pain to reply. Eragon's fingers scratched the floor, leaving bloody trails behind as the crimson liquid welled up underneath them. More blood trickled out of his nose, mouth and ears and to Eragon it felt as if his intestines were on fire. Eragon was in too much pain to scream when it felt as if his back was ripped open, the bones in his body rearranging themselves. His body finally gave out as his mind collapsed into darkness.

Saphira picked up her rider and as gently as she could placed him on the bed before assuming a watchful stance next to him. It was almost sunrise by the time Eragon stirred again and even though he didn't notice, to Saphira it was as if a burden was lifted from her shoulders.

' _Fuck.'_ Eragon moaned. _'That hurt.'_

' _Couldn't tell.'_ Saphira replied dryly, happy to see her rider the same as always. Well… almost the same.

' _Whoever made this bed did a shit job. It's all lumpy.'_

' _Before you hunt down the elf who failed you, I would look in the mirror first.'_ Saphira said, amused at her rider's unawareness of his transformation.

' _God, why do I feel like somebody attached an anchor to my shoulders.'_ He said, sitting up in bed. _'I feel really strange and-'_

Eragon opened his eyes.

' _Oh god, I have wings.'_ He finished. Carefully he reached to the side, trailing his fingers across the primaries. _'It is strange. I can feel them.'_

' _Wings you cannot feel are rather useless. You need to anticipate the air currents.'_

' _Well, it looks like you get to give me flying lessons then.'_ Eragon said much to the amusement of Saphria. _'But let's not forget why I went through this thing in the first place. Could you help me up please?'_ Saphira moved so he could use her strong, flexible neck as support. Eragon was so very grateful she was there he had no way of putting it to words, but Saphira had felt it and pressed gently into him, saying more than a thousand words could.

They were there for each other.

' _He is gone, Saphira.'_ Eragon said, a tear rolling down his cheek.

' _What do you mean?'_

' _I had to kill Icarus. It was the only way to grant me the power to heal Arya. To take his power and add it to mine. I know he was always so cold, but he was always there, always prepared to help.'_

' _I know, little one, I know. We will make sure his legacy is not lost.'_

' _Please… please gather the others while I go see Arya.'_ He said before stumbling towards the packed saddle-bags for the journey back to the Varden. On the way there, Eragon stumbled by the mirror and he could not help but take a moment to take in his transformation.

Much unlike Icarus's color scheme, wings of a perfect white tipped with gold arced over his shoulders. _'They are strong. They will carry you far as you fly with me.'_ Saphira praised. Other than that very little appeared to have changed on the outside. When he took the intended package from the saddlebags, he noticed it was much lighter than it should be. Grabbing the paperweight from the desk, he experimentally threw it as hard as he could. To his horror it flew in a straight line and left a perfect paperweight-sized hole in the wall where it had crashed through the wood like it was paper.

' _It appears Icarus changed more than just my appearance.'_ Eragon said.

' _He made you strong enough to overcome the task at hand. Galbatorix won't stand a chance now.'_

' _He's had hundreds of years to amass power. I don't think he will be that easily dismissed.'_ Eragon replied, still reeling from all the new discoveries. _'Now I should go cure Arya before I lose all sanity.'_ Eragon replied. _'Do you feel ready to fly tonight?'_

' _You want to leave already?'_ Saphira asked, slightly disappointed.

' _We have lingered too long already. Besides, I don't want to set the forest ablaze with rumor just yet. Making a swift exit is our best chance.'_

' _It's not going to be much different with the Varden, you know.'_ Saphira replied.

' _Nope, but nobody there trusts me anyways, so I have very little to lose with them.'_

' _You are scared the elves will reject you for this.'_ Saphira said. It wasn't even a guess and Eragon wasn't going to fight her on it.

' _Yup.'_ He said, before making his way outside. Sticking to the shadows he avoided the ongoing festivities and slipped into the royal gardens. Thankful for the rather detailed tour Islanzadí had given him, he managed to navigate through Tialdarì hall without much difficulty. He felt the sheer _life_ of Arya hum through the walls ahead of him. Silently he entered and was thankful to find her sound asleep next to Fäolin. It hurt to see her in the arms of another, but perhaps there was some truth to what Icarus had said.

For a few moments he just stood there, admiring her serene beauty, marred only by the dark soot pulsating in her veins. With a single purposeful movement he placed the palm of his hand against her sternum and commanded the darkness to amass beneath it. With a strangling motion he pulled it from her, watching in fascination as a black vapor arose from her body before dissipating into the air. Taking a moment to convince himself her blood was now clear of the toxin, he turned away from the sleeping pair.

His eye fell on her writing desk, a half complete report placed prominently in the center of it. His newly enhanced eyes could make out every detail of it in the moonlight, but that was a matter for another time. Instead he placed upon it the package he'd taken from his saddlebags. Folding a clean sheet of paper in half, he took the quill and wrote:

' _What was broken now is whole again. May this guide you to a new purpose.'_ Underneath he scribbled the last, unsung verse of his song;

 _Hold on to me and what was_

 _Please believe you'd once have loved me_

 _Though you don't know me_

Unable to keep his emotions in check in their entirety, a single tear dropped onto the paper before he could stop it, washing a bit of the ink. Whatever the outcome of tonight would be, he hoped it was worth the sacrifice. Before it could get worse, he quickly pinned it underneath the package containing the green dragon egg and almost ran from the palace.

Outside, gathered in a semi-circle, were Oromis, Glaedr, Islanzadí, Saphira and Illium. "Thank you all for coming." Eragon said, keeping everything but his face hidden in the shadows.

"What is it, Eragon? Saphira said it was important." Oromis asked.

"What you are about to see," Eragon said, "may invariably change the way you see me. Whether you decide to tell others or keep it a secret, I leave up to you. Before you judge, I ask you listen to me first."

' _You have a pure heart, nothing you can do will make us turn our backs on you.'_ Glaedr boomed.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." Eragon replied before bracing himself and stepping forward, spreading his wings in an awesome display. Everybody gasped in surprise and even Glaedr seemed genuinely mystified. "You are all aware of Icarus, for I told each and every one of you of what happened to me." One by one the elves nodded and Glaedr bowed his head in acknowledgement. "After what happened to Arya tonight, I could no longer stand by idly. Icarus sacrificed himself to give me the power to heal her, which I just did. Tomorrow she will awake whole and healthy once more. As you can see, when I took his soul and bound it to mine, it didn't leave me completely… unchanged."

Islanzadí, with tears in her eyes, embraced him. "Thank you, Eragon. You have no idea how much it means to see my daughter restored." Releasing him she took a step back. "I will assure that every elf knows of what you have done here tonight. None shall look at you with disdain, no matter how… unusual you have become." She said.

"We owe you a great deal of gratitude." Oromis said, touching his hand to his chest and bowing his head slightly. "But if you think this will get you out of doing your lessons, you are deeply mistaken." He said with a smile. Glaedr grunted in agreement.

Illium walked forward and caught Eragon's upper arm in his hand. "I have seen men do strange things to get a girl's attention, but this is a first, even for me." He said with a wink, soft enough so only the two of them would hear. "I expect to see great things of you the next time we spar. Make those wings into an asset, not a vulnerability." He added louder for all to hear.

"Oh, one last thing. There is a secret I have not shared with you. If you want to find out what it is, you should talk to Arya in the morning." Eragon said, balling back and forth on his feet and smirking at the mystified looks of those around him.

* * *

Elemental Dragon Slayer – You are not the only one to have said that :\\. I suppose I made an error of judgement. It was not supposed to come across as rushed, but rather add another layer to the conflicted relationship between them. No Fäolin in this chapter, not yet. Maybe later though ;). Thanks for the review!

Stubbsie8 – As always naught but praise from you. A welcome change in between the somewhat more negative than usual other reviews. Thanks for the kindness and see ya next time!

Thedemonkid – I have some plans with it indeed. You will find out in due time what I have planned for him ^^. Thank you for the review and see ya 'round!

Orca3553 – Indeed he does, but at what cost, that's the question…

Tamerlorde85 – Yeah, I have heard that one more. I suppose I made a mistake there. It was supposed to add more depth instead of come across rushed. My bad I guess xs. Good to hear that the rest of the chapter was ok otherwise. See ya!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs – No cheats used, I'm gonna guess Japanese.

Watchman1 – If you thought that was good, I think you found this one amazing. I have taken the angst to the next level now. We have achieved lift-off so to speak ^^. Thanks for the review!

Carnivore Does – I fed that line to google which, in broken Dutch, clarified to me it is Finnish (right?). I'm glad to hear you liked it as it's always nice to see new readers (or at least reviewers) file in. Thank you for the review and see ya next time!

Vizual-Era – Well, the problem isn't so much coming up with the stuff, but making sure it's not completely redundant. For instance, I can't have Eragon never use his voice after the blood-oath anymore now. That would just be weird and stupid. Buttering up never hurts, right? The ExA time is close upon us now! Thanks for the review and see ya 'round!

Ky111 – Hmm, I never actually considered it, but you do have a good point there. Thanks for clarifying that for me ;p. Thanks for the review and see ya!

HomoForElmo – And your mother is the tooth fairy?

OechsnerC – A true visionary!

Booklover1798 – Well, she's gonna cry about it of course. What else do women ever do when men interact with them… *sigh…*

ArthurShade – That, my friend, is the question everyone wants answered! I will give you what the rest knows so far: Icarus used to rule as a powerful creature in an age long ago. Tired of life, he began looking for a way out, but failed. As a spirit-entity, weakened but still very strong, he bound himself to Eragon in hopes of overcoming the transitionary stage to death.

Rasmusemees - It will be permanent. I'm sorry if it came across as rushed. I wanted it to give another layer to their relationship, but you are not the only one who has told me that, so I guess it was a mistake on my end ;p. Uh, if you can find a viable reader-base for me, I can at least look into the idea for you. No promises though. Eragon has trained with Icarus every night, who has channeled the Energy Eragon expended into strengthening Eragon's body. Lengthy reviews are fine! They give me something to talk about in return xs. Thanks for your time and see ya 'round!

Sprtgln – Well, you have piqued my interest now, so you pretty much _have_ to do it! Voice changes, body changes, what is not to love. Alagaesia – the haven of plastic surgery! I have chained my girlfriend down in the basement, so you will be save until she's gnawed her foot off I think. Guess is gonna be Brittain. Cheers!

Mad hatter – If I were to implement POV changes, who would you like to follow along with? The voice, it's always the voice, isn't it? I'm not sure how much of a drawback I'm gonna make it (could bend Eragon over of course, but not too sure if that's the right call to make here). You will be hearing more about it in the future, though. That much is certain! As I've said to others, the confession was not meant to rush the story along, but rather add another layer of depth. I see now it didn't come across that way and that's my bad entirely, but they won't be sharing a bed by next chapter, so don't worry about that. Thanks though, and see ya 'round!

AvidReader – It's always good to see a new face around here. I'm glad you like it and hope to see you for many more chapters to come!

JaYDN78 – Eragon's world is about to crash together in a fantastic uncontrollable clusterfuck. I'm gonna have so much fun *giggles*. ExA will become more prominent in the chapters to come, though you need not worry they will end up in the same bed by next chapter. Good job calling the twist, but I bet you didn't see the one in this chapter coming! Thanks for the kind words and see ya next time!

Dragon Junkie74 – Bless you (it's my new standard reply). I hope the jet-lag wasn't too bad. Flying east is always worse than flying west. Twists all around this chapter. You get to see some more ExA interaction in the next chapter, and it will be a lot more… hands-on so to say ;). Love ya right back at you. Stay shiny.

Prophecysl4yer – Hmm, maybe something for a random unrelated one-shot? xD. The voice is something you will come to learn more about in the future, though it's not the rather harmless transformation you are currently making it out to be.

Guest – Jeez, learn to dose these things man! I can't write any faster without making the quality suffer more than it already has xD. I'm glad to hear the story read fluently though. I try to update twice or thrice a week, depending on how much time I have. Just to give you an indication. See ya 'round!

Sir Failure – You do present a good point right there. I might just have that happen at some point. If you have any more of these idea's please come see me first before spewing them into the reviews – that way it's not spoilered for the rest of the readers xD. As for the rest of your review, you are on the right path… except you will now have to learn about Icarus from the grave. Thanks for all the kind words and see ya next time!

Hans – Please, once you go Hans, you never go back. Dammit, take pride in the name, woman! But all joking aside, I appreciate the kindness in your review. It's indeed somewhat hard being torn between the desire to write a good story, the desire to move the story along and just the right amount of fanservice xs. I would be honored to take a look at some of your work. I have been looking for a beta-reader regardless, so if you want to take the role upon yourself, I would be very pleased. Vodka drinks tend to give me hellish headaches, so I try to avoid them. Maybe we can settle for a decent long island? xD. I will take your reviews any way you give them, doesn't matter if they are all over the place, so don't worry about it! I hope you are armed with good winter clothes. You will need them in Alaska ;p. Viel Erfolg mit deinem Umzug!


	20. Interlude - Healed

She woke, the first rays of daylight filtering over the horizon. Today she felt… different, although she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Behind her, a ceasless source of uncomfortable heat stirred. Somewhat annoyed she looked over her shoulder to see Fäolin there. She didn't want him there, not really, but after he'd spent over two hours comforting her last night she couldn't very well turn him away.

Doing her best not to wake him she rose from her bed. Glancing around the room, she noticed everything was in order. That was until her eyes fell on her writing desk. Walking over to it she noticed a large, leather duffel bag. A note was pinned underneath it. She wanted to reach out and take it, see who had dared come into her rooms uninvited at night. As soon as her fingers brushed the paper, however, she could almost _feel_ the agony that permeated it.

Not quite ready to open it yet, she looked out of her window, onto the gardens and the ongoing festivities beyond. There were still two days of celebrations left, but she felt in no way motivated to join in. Not after what happened last night. It was her own stupid fault. She could have _never_ hoped to fight a shade. The sane thing to do would have been to run. Durza had mentioned something, however. Something about Eragon that had infuriated her for some unknown reason.

Involuntarily her mind drifted to the young rider. She knew full well she was wrong to fault him for all the pain in her life, but she had to blame _someone._ The logical one would have been that damned shade, the one who robbed her of her honor and duty. When she'd found out the price Eragon'd had to pay on her behalf to break out of Gil'ead, however, she'd instead been furious he'd willingly put it down. She knew that to her left, on the wall, a fairth of Glenwing stared out into the sunrise.

That left her torn between a painful memory, an unwelcome friend and a painful mystery. She could, of course, also opt to just make a forward plunge out of the window, but that wouldn't do the world much good. Deciding to let the past be, she took a deep breath and pulled the note out from underneath the leather bag. Opening it, she read the content.

The handwriting was neat, though jagged. Distinctly male in nature. The first line she could read.

' _What was broken now is whole again. May this guide you to new purpose.'_

Underneath was a set of mysterious glyphs, utterly beautiful in form. Even more so than those used for the ancient language. Carefully she traced her fingers across them. She couldn't read them, but in her head the melody flowed all the same.

' _Hold on to me and what was_

 _Please believe you'd once have loved me_

 _Though you don't know me.'_

There was no doubt in her mind as to who had written the note. It was the very same person who had sung the song that verse belonged to. It had been so hauntingly beautiful. Even though she'd been hidden in the shadows, her heart had soared and crashed the same way everybody else's had. Although the notion was preposterous, she couldn't quite escape the feeling the very reason Eragon had sung it, was for her. The very last symbol was marred, as if something had washed out the ink before it had a chance to dry. Almost like a drop of water had fallen on it.

 _Or a tear._

Arya put the note down, unclasping the satchel to glance inside. Her breath caught. A dragon egg, flawless and the same size as Saphira's, but this one was green. Slowly she traced her hand over the smooth surface. Where did Eragon manage to get his hands on it? That only left one question, what did he intend to fix? What had been broken and now was whole again?

She pondered this question deeply until she spotted something _very_ unusual. She quickly paced to the mirror and twisted her body in a fashion she would no longer have dared do after sustaining her injury.

 _No._ She thought as her world stopped.

The yawë on her back was gone, as was the angry red fringing around her scar. All had been replaced by a discoloration slightly darker than her own skin in the shape of two wings, though the one that ran over the scar was crumpled, as though she had fallen and landed on it. Experimentally she put herself through the first sequence if the Ringmar. She half feared another episode, but to her surprise none came.

What had Eragon done to her?

Dressing herself she rushed out of her chambers, intent on finding her mother. She was the ruler after all, had to know _everything_ that happened in these woods. Perhaps she would have some answers. The queen was surrounded by a number of her advisors, making unimportant small talk. Upon seeing her daughter, however, Islanzadí curtly excused herself and walked over to her. Cautiously the queen clasped her hands around her daughter's upper arms. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Good," Arya said, "much better in fact, Eragon-"

"He has left." Was Islanzadí's simple yet solemn reply.

Arya was struck with silence. It took a her a few moments to gather her wits about her again, but intent on finding out the truth, she pressed on. "Eragon… did something to me. Mother, if you know _anything_ , I need you to tell me."

Islanzadí clearly struggled with something, as if she was trying to find a way to word something but couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Eragon…" she began, "has sacrificed half his soul to save yours."

Worry enveloped her. "Saphira-"

"She is fine, child. But Eragon… he's changed. Last time I spoke to him he appeared to be fine, circumstances notwithstanding, but I sensed something beneath the surface, something changing. I fear for the price he has paid."

Arya's mind went reeling. "I… should go." She said, turning away from her bewildered mother and heading back for Tialdarí hall. It all began to come together. How Eragon had sat with her for _hours_ every night during her captivity. Until that weird scrying power of his began to give out, at least. The way he always seemed to rush in when she was about to get into the worst kind of trouble.

She had pushed him away time and time again, yet he'd been the one who had cared for her after Tronjheim. That outburst on the field, the way he seemed to always be in pain when looking at her. Eragon, of course, thought she didn't notice. The note, undoubtedly written just after he'd done whatever it was that her mother feared so. Then it struck her, all the signs pointing in the same direction.

Eragon cared for her and – dare she say it – loved her. However painful the conclusion, she couldn't ignore the sheer torture it must have been to see her in bed with another, held by another. To put down half his soul for her and then turn away. She of course never intended to take Fäolin that way, but _he_ couldn't know that. Arya needed a moment to focus herself. To make a plan. Not caring where she was, she sat down smack in the middle of the hallway of her ancestral home and closed her eyes in though.

Time to reevaluate.

She'd wanted so badly to antagonize Eragon. To blame someone. It wasn't fair on him to use him as an emotional punching bag. Yet even though he only saw the worst from her, he still refused to hate her, to leave her in her shell. _What do I do?_ She lamented. Her thoughts drifted back to a night long ago.

 _Glenwing poked the fire with a stick, watching her through the flames. "You love him, don't you?" He asked, eyes darting to Fäolin who was keeping watch some fifty paces away._

" _I think of him as more than just a friend, but I've seen the way he treats the world around him. I cannot be ignorant to that, love someone who is that blind, just as he cannot see me clearly enough to love me in return." Arya replied, having no issues being truthful to her best friend. Between Fäolin and Glenwing, the latter had always been her favorite._

" _And what will you do when someone with a better heart comes around? Someone who gladly carve out his heart and put it in your hands if you asked for it? Would you turn him away simply because he hasn't known you for the same extent of time we have?"_

 _Arya shrugged. "I suppose. Probably I will cross that bridge when it comes to it." She replied evasively. Glenwing smiled sadly._

" _That way of thinking will only lead to a lifetime of loneliness. Trust me, I know. Promise me, Arya. Promise that if that man comes around, you will at least give him a chance."_

 _She was hesitant for a moment, uncertain what to say. "Alright, I promise."_

Arya sat still for another moment. Her mind was resolved, _she knew what she had to do._ Rising to her feet, she stormed to her chambers. Eragon had a twelve-hour head start on her. True, she had no dragon, but if she rode through the night, she had a chance of catching up with him in three nights. All her plans, however, soon came to a screeching halt. For there, on the middle of her desk, was now a small, green, lizard-like, winged creature, it's head poking out of the leather satchel that had previously contained its egg.


	21. Chapter 20

Hello everybody! Circling right back around with chapter 20. Progress, my friends, it's being made! That being said, I hope you all can... appreciate what I'm trying to do in this chapter. I know a lot of you disagreed with me the last time xD.

That being said, I went back and rephrased Eragon's outburst in chapter 18. You can go back and read it if you want, but in short he no longer confesses to love Arya, instead saying something about being unable to leave her alone. Enough of my ramblings, enjoy your chapter!

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For those of you still wondering, Eragon's song was inspired by "You don't know me" by Erutan.

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Saphira quietly touched down on the edge of the Varden's encampment _._ It was strange seeing the men and women he'd come to know from afar out of the dark tunnels. After the Urgal attack, however, Brom decided it wasn't safe for the Varden to remain within Tronjheim. Now, understocked and understaffed, the army camped in Surda. Although king Orrin, the leader of Surda, didn't openly support the cause, he… condoned the trespass. Soon, however, they would have to march.

' _I will hunt now. The journey has been long and I'm hungry.'_ She said. Eragon wished her happy hunting and moved into the camp. Thankfully it was dark so instead of a flocking mass, he only got the occasional stare from a sentry. To his pleasant surprise he found a large cat with unusual eyes like his stalking one of the chickens.

' _Hello, Solembum.'_

' _Eragon.'_ The cat replied, too caught up in his task to notice the rather obvious change in the rider.

' _Can you tell me where I might find Angela?'_

' _Third tent on the left.'_ He replied, equally distracted as the first time before pouncing on the unfortunate bird. Furiously flapping its wings, it managed to smack the were-cat over the head, stunning him. Indignantly it strutted away. Smiling in amusement Eragon carried on and knocked on the tent post of the third tent to his left.

Sure enough Angela's angry voice shouted. "Just a moment!" Before the witch, clad in nightgown, poked her head out of the tent flap. "Do you have any idea what time- Oh, hello Eragon. I was not aware you had returned."

"I returned a few minutes ago. I know it's late, but if you have the time, I'd like a word." He answered. Angela's eyes briefly glanced to Eragon's wings. She wasn't even surprised and Eragon wasn't even surprised she wasn't surprised.

"Alright, just give me a moment to make myself presentable." Before he had the chance to reply, she had zipped up the tent again. Furious rummaging and the clatter of pots and pans ensued until, eventually, she opened the tent flap fully and waved him inside. Still not quite used to his new… assets, he struck both supports, making the tent wobble dangerously. "Jesus, keep those tucked in, will you? Just look at you, barely five minutes on the ground and you have dragged them through enough dirt to turn the wings black." Angela muttered.

"I would if I knew how." Eragon replied tiredly.

She stepped around and, not even asking for permission, Pushed up against the base of his wings, twisting them in a way he had not put them before. _It Hurt!_

"Ouch!" He hissed.

"Quit whining. It takes muscle control, if you can't do this, forget about flying. Put some effort into strengthening those wings."

"Angela," Eragon said, turning to her, "He's gone."

"I know. I knew the moment I saw you. Don't presume I didn't know…" She was rambling and doing a bad job at hiding it.

"Angela. Angela!" He yelled, snapping her out of it. "What aren't you telling me."

"Dammit Eragon. You weren't supposed to kill him. Not yet at least. That was the plan, the plan all along." The witch said, flopping down in one of the chairs in the tent.

"You were in on this? To what happened to me?" Eragon asked, anger rising. Angela sensed it, the way the air suddenly began to vibrate with power as rage fought to get the better of him.

"Don't you talk down to me!" She said, rising from the chair. Suddenly his power wasn't the only one filling the air, an eerily similar yet much more powerful one emanating from the witch.

"Well?" Eragon pressed, fully intending to strong-arm her into submission.

Angela and Eragon locked stares, neither appearing to give in until Angela let go and resumed her seated position. "No! Yes… maybe. It's not like that, Eragon. Icarus and I, we go back. _Way_ back."

Eragon's mind was reeling at the possible implications. "How far back?"

"We… served under the same ruler for some time, and-"

"Not buying." Eragon interjected.

Angela stared at Eragon for several moments. "Tell me why you are here, or this conversation is over."

The rider knew he had hit a dead end. "His last words were to come find you for tutelage. Now is hardly the time for that. Clearly you have something to grieve. Sorry to have bothered you, I will return tomorrow." Eragon rose, keeping his wings neatly tucked in as she'd shown. He barely made it out of the tent before his quivering muscles released and they dropped back down to the ground.

"Nice wings."

Immediately Eragon's eyes shot back up to see Brom leaning against a tent pole opposite him. "You scared me for a moment there." Eragon replied, shaking it off.

"Come now, you really think anyone can enter or leave my encampment without me knowing it?" Brom grinned.

Eragon shrugged his shoulders. "Pretty much."

Brom truly laughed now. "And you would probably be right. The security around here is an issue I can't seem to get a grip on. Fortunately we don't have much to hide at the moment. One of the sentries told me someone with honest-to-god wings walked into the camp. I threatened to tie him to the flogging pole for wasting my time, but he insisted. It's good to have you back, Eragon."

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you? I came to Tronjheim only to find you gone. Missed the army by three days, Hrothgar said. Tell me why you decide to start moving _after_ I stop contacting you on a daily basis? Told me you marched for Surda. I… tried to find you out here in the desert. You know, _my_ way. Although the lizards make for splendid conversational partners, I ended up in Aberon. Lovely fellow, king Orrin. Only insulted me seven times before I could extract the information concerning your whereabouts from him."

Brom visibly shuddered. "Yes, he can be… difficult."

"The king of all understatements." Eragon replied.

"On a more interesting note, how did you manage to suddenly sprout wings? I know the elves change themselves from time to time, but never like this. Not to mention you don't have a grasp on that kind of magic."

"That is a story I will tell you in due time, but not here and not now. I am tired and need to sleep. You don't happen to have a tent and cot that has sufficient size for these?" Eragon said, gesturing towards his wings.

"That depends, how large are we talking?"

"I had a friend of mine pace the wingspan. Twenty-three steps from tip to tip. According to Angela I need to train them more before I try flight, though."

"You know, when you say it like that it almost sounds as if you are compensating for something." Brom jested

"Well, you know what they say about men and their wings…" Eragon retorted. Brom flipped him the bird and Eragon knew all was well in the male world. Sleep, however, only found him briefly that night. As during his travels, it was continuously disturbed by disconcerting dream after nightmare. That had been six weeks ago and the quality of his nights remained… unchanged. Angela, too, made an effort to avoid him wherever possible. Figuring she wasn't ready to talk to him yet, Eragon respected her unexpressed wish for distance. The remainder of the Varden had had… mixed reactions bout his transformation. There were three discernable groups. The first only alienated him further, now convinced there was nothing remotely worldly left in him. The second seemed genuinely accepting and praised the exotic beauty of his white-tipped-with-gold wings. The last group was the most troublesome.

A few of the humans had taken one look at his wings and immediately been stricken with an unhealthy awe. It was only a matter of time before they found each other and started an honest-to-god cult in his honor. Without Icarus about to consult him on the matter he had largely stuck to ignoring them. When they'd begun kidnapping and killing children in his name, however, he'd been forced to step in. Eragon, forced to play the part of messenger of the gods, had laid down a series of firm but fair guidelines to keep them in check. All in all the experience had just been degrading.

In between these… exotic escapades of his fellow humans – if he could still classify himself as a human that is – he had been sent out on small missions. Until Brom managed to get enough support for an actual all-out war, they had been limited to a war of attrition; hit-and-run on Empire supply convoys. A desperate measure to ensure the Varden had breakfast tomorrow, even if Brom wouldn't admit it. A huge mistake in his judgement, but he would not cross Brom so soon after he had taken the role of leader upon himself. And bread from the Empire was way tastier than whatever sour concoction the Varden cooks made out of the desert sand.

Sure, sending a rider on supply raids was a little bit overkill, but it was a guaranteed win without casualties for the Varden. An added benefit for Eragon is that he didn't have to be around others all the time, give him a chance to wind down every once in a while.

Deciding to make the best out of the situation he had taken to bringing Nemeya with him. Conflict always generated loads of attention. Even if the conflict had more in common with target practice. This was the twelfth raid since his return. Having slaughtered the platoon of escorting soldiers, he and Nemeya had begun rounding up the supplies that had been scattered around during their… intervention. Eragon retrieved three of his arrows from a dead soldier, wincing as he pulled the cut across his chest taut. He had been taken completely by surprise by a stray arrow. One that he had been taught to deflect a thousand times by Icarus, but today he just _missed_ it.

"I think that's the last of it." Nemeya said, sitting down next to him. She had done admirably, her aim having improved substantially since their last meeting. "Still can't get used to the wings though."

"Learning how to fight with my swords again has been rather tricky." Eragon admitted. "But they allow for a lot of moves I couldn't have hoped to do before. Touching his fingers to his chest he saw them come back red. "I should go clean this out. Can you wait for the detail Brom sent to pick up the supples?" She nodded.

"Sure."

"Oh and when they do come, don't do any of the actual hauling yourself. You already did the _hard_ part of this job."

Nemeya smiled her telltale grin. She almost reminded him of Arya. It took a special kind of woman to appear beautiful surrounded by death and blood. _'I saw a stream nearby.'_ Saphira said as he hopped onto her saddle.

' _Well, lead the way.'_ It was only a short flight, but small brook was clear and surrounded by trees, giving a decent degree of privacy to prying eyes. Somewhat of an essential when you were traveling around with a dragon in hostile land. Eragon knelt down by the stream, gently rinsing the long gash that ran down his chest.

' _Does it hurt much?'_ Saphira asked as she tried to get the remainders of bone out from between her claws.

' _No, it's already healing. I was careless.'_ He replied, splashing some of the cold water on his face.

' _Not careless, just distracted.'_ His dragon corrected. He would argue with her, but she was right. With Icarus gone it was like there was constantly a small army of people nagging for his attention somewhere in the back of his mind. At first they had been nothing but nuisances, but at night they presented themselves in horrid nightmares. Eragon was already used to sleeping very little – even more so than Icarus had changed him at first. Now, the little sleep he _did_ get was always disturbed. In the last six weeks he had slept perhaps twelve hours, and it was starting to show. He was beginning to make mistakes, miss things. The wound across his chest was just one of the many examples.

As Eragon sat on the ground, he found his eyes drifting shut. He found himself in the dark, surrounded by floating lights, gently floating in the air. Sleep deprived as he was Eragon was thankful for the reprieve. As far as he could see there were no malformed monsters, no infernal fire, no detached limbs or heaps of corpses. No Arya being tortured, no excruciating pain. Just… darkness. Behind him he heard light, almost faint breathing. Wondering what he'd be confronted with today, he turned around. On the bed was his late uncle Garrow, just the way he remembered him moments before his death. Except something seemed… off. _Not him, please not him. Do not taint my memories of him._ Eragon thought as he forced his body to move closer.

Kneeling down next to the bed he waited patiently, knowing what was about to happen. He couldn't measure the time. It could have been seconds or hours. Eventually Garrow's labored breathing leveled and, a moment later stopped. There wasn't supposed to be anything after this, but instead Garrow's body began to shake uncontrollably, lips quivering. With a start, Garrow's unseeing, dull eyes shot open and bored into Eragon's.

"It's cold. So very cold. And dark." Garrow whispered. "Please, Eragon. Where are you?"

"I'm here." Eragon replied.

"I can see gray. A little bit of gray but it's _so_ far away. I need to go so much further to get to it. I don't know if I can."

"He is waiting for you, you know." Eragon looked up to see the woman from the fairth, the one Brom had called Selena and his supposed mother, standing there. Eragon knew none if this was real, but it still felt… dirty.

"What are you?" He asked.

"A guide." Was her simple reply. "I am here to help you aspire to greatness, Eragon. Tell me, do you know what greatness, at its very core, is?"

"Humor me."

She walked around him. "One of the most significant moments in human history was when we bonded with Dragons. Not so much what we aspired to become, but the realization we could communicate ceaselessly and completely. Can you imagine what it would be like up there in the inhospitable clouds with no way of talking to each other?"

"Be that as it may, why is Garrow here."

"He will be your training subject. As _his_ successor, you must learn how to communicate with those beyond the grave."

"Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?" When she only smirked in reply he got up and walked over to her, intent on shaking the answers out of her _even if_ whatever it was that stood there looked like his mother. Yet however hard he tried, his hands couldn't touch her. It was as if an invisible force pushed him back towards the bed.

The entity laughed. "You don't understand, do you? Whatever happens, whatever you do, wherever the world strands. None of that matters. What matters is that we found a way to communicate with our brethren _beyond_. He is in a place right now where you will never be able to physically reach him anymore. Yet it is a place you would do well to learn as much as you can about. The most important thing is to keep him talking. The moment you lose him, he becomes useless. Don't let him become useless." She said that last part with a malice that revealed killing intent.

Garrow gasped. "Eragon."

The rider turned back to Garrow who was now clearly dead. Grabbing his hand, the skin having turned the rain-cloud shade of the deceased, he said: "I'm here."

"I got to the gray… to the ground. It's so cold."

Eragon shot one look to whatever it was that shared the dream with him, knowing he had to play along _or else._ "Can you describe where you are?"

"It's more real now… solid, but it's all so grey. A grey sky, grey sand, the gray sea behind me. And the clouds… oh god the clouds are screaming."

"The ocean, tell me what you can see in the ocean."

"Miles and miles of hungry dark, eating at the world. Mustn't go there, so cold…"

"What's in the other direction?" Eragon asked.

"The way… the way I must go. Just the sand, the gray sand forever. Not many bad things to see yet, but there will be more. There will be more soon. I'm gonna start walking now." There was an undeniable truth about the words, like when talking to a small child.

"Garrow, talk to me." Eragon pressed, somewhat distressed.

"No, this is not a place for talking. All the talking was supposed to be done already. I think I better stay quiet now. My voice is all the way up there… with you…"

"Garrow, please tell me what's happening.

"I… I think I have died, I have finally died. The thing ahead, it's expecting me. It has been expecting me since before I even was a fuzzy little thing in my mother's arms. But it feels frighteningly right. He has been expecting me since before my parents, and before theirs. So far back…" After a moment Garrow's mouth quirked in what would have been an awkward smile. "There are other people. They are naked, but I mean… really naked. It's like I can see inside of them, like there are no more walls. Their thoughts and feelings almost hanging around them like ghosts. They are so naked, Eragon."

"So what are all the people doing?"

"Moving."

"Moving where?"

"The center. Just like me. I must keep moving…"

"What happens if you stand still?"'

"I will be stuck here forever…"

Without warning the cold, bony hand of the dead wrapped around his wrist, pulling him forward. Suddenly the person in the bed was no longer Garrow, but Icarus. His wings were shredded, eyes gouged out as maggots crawled through what remained of his once flowing mane of hair. "Just like you!" He said as the floor underneath Eragon turned into water. He was barely able to gasp in a breath before he was pulled under.

Suddenly Icarus's hands weren't the only ones on his body. Clawing, decaying hands reached for whatever part of him they could grab hold of. Some faces were familiar, others weren't, but they all held so much malice. Unrelentingly they carried him down until he was no longer able to hold his breath.

Eragon gasped as the world around him came back into focus. Saphira patiently waited next to him. _'Another nightmare?'_ She asked. Eragon nodded. He noticed a few spatters of blood remained on his knuckles. Reaching forward once more he continued to rinse them with water. His eyes drifted to the grass where his discarded blades lay. It would be so easy to run them down his wrists, to end this… whatever his existence was before it got worse. After all, he had secured the future. Arya had the egg, would find someone who could do his job; someone who wasn't broken and failing on the most fundamental level. Searching for a glimmer of hope in the dark he had waited for Arya. The first week he had ceaselessly kept watch at night, hoping for her to show. By the second week that hope had withered and by the third it had died.

Eragon shook it off. He could never do that to Saphira. He knew the pain she felt when they were apart, had felt it himself also. He couldn't in good conscience sentence her to an eternity of that kind of loneliness. As such, Eragon decided to just get back to washing the blood off him. He was so focused on his task, he completely failed to notice Saphira's departure with a surprisingly green companion. It was not until a slender hand touched his bare shoulder he was pulled out of it with a jolt.

When he turned he was not sure if he was daydreaming or whether he was looking at a mirage. "Arya?" She stood there fidgeting. "You came." He whispered.

"How could I not? After I read your note I had my suspicions it was you, but after my mother told me what you did I was certain. Only you, strong and mysterious, could find a way to undo the damage _he_ did to me. It was almost impossible to find you, you know. I had to go through Brom himself to tell me where you were headed. Your apprentice was rather helpful, though." The coincidental echo of his own words was almost too perfect to be true. "You are hurt." She said, tracing a finger across the edge of the raw gash. "

Eragon smiled wryly. "A simple mistake. It surprises me you didn't bring your lapdog. You seemed rather… close the last time I saw you together."

"He was only there to console me. I know you don't think very highly of Faolin-"

"What I think is irrelevant. You appear to need him around, that's all that matters." He said, turning away from her.

"It's _not_ irrelevant. You have to stop crossing yourself out of the equation all the time."

"It's funny. I though you of all people wouldn't mind that at all."

"Don't tell me what to think." Arya hissed, falling back to her mother tongue. "Eragon if you- no. I didn't come to fight you. But if you keep being selfless to a fault, it will kill you."

It was almost cynical to hear her say those words and he couldn't help but laugh. Replying in the ancient language himself he said: "you can't kill what's already dead, Arya."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Would you like to hear the story of how I came to be? Not even your mother could have told you that, I made her swear to keep it a secret." Arya remained silent, shocked by his outburst. "You killed me."

"Excuse me?"

"When you blitzed Saphira's egg into the spine, you happened to place it right on top of me. Sent wooden shrapnel flying everywhere. A stick, the size of the sword on your back tore right through my abdomen. As I bled in the snow, something miraculous happened."

"Mismatched eyes and white-tipped-gold wings miraculous?"

"Did your mother sing you songs as a child?" Eragon asked.

"I don't see how that applies, but she did."

"Then the name 'Icarus' must mean something to you. A vague memory perhaps, a story that didn't end well." Arya nodded. "He exists. Or rather, existed. Knowing that I was to become Saphira's rider, he weaved his very existence into my own along with twenty-seven other souls. On that field… I don't know what I became, but it alienated me from all I'd ever known."

"Eragon, I-"

The past six weeks, the wounds she tore open time and time again, his perfect façade, it was all beginning to come apart at the seams. "No, you will hear me out. I slaved for months, almost a year. All I knew was Brom, Saphira, Icarus and me. Then one of the spirits within me, a small boy who now no longer is, guides me to you. Tells me to free you. I waged a one-man war that night. The bodies I burned paved the way for your exit. It was the first time I was truly tested in combat. Before it had only been training. Sure, Icarus sliced me up the same as any other enemy would, but there was no _real_ danger. Just pain." Eragon flopped down on the grassy bank, his wings splaying around him like an ocean of feathers.

"To this day I blame myself I wasn't faster. Wasn't fast enough to save all three of you. All I have ever striven to do since I've known you was to keep you from suffering, even when you pushed me away. Just like I blame myself for not being there in time to prevent Durza from hurting you again in Tronjheim. From that day onward, I was reminded of my mistake, my _failure_ every time your back acted up. When I saw you go down in front of your people, I couldn't take it anymore. I killed Icarus to save you. I absorbed him. These wings? A permanent mark to remind me of my sacrifice and his."

Eragon furiously rubbed his eyes. "Icarus served as more than a tutor. He was the only thing between me and the other spirits. For six weeks they have plagued my dreams. For six weeks I have barely slept. It has reached the point where I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you, the point where I make mistakes that cause my chest to be ripped open from side to side. I'm done hiding, Arya. I'm too tired to keep wearing my mask so I will just say it outright, even though I know you don't want to hear it. I have feelings for you, Arya. Feelings beyond friendship and feelings beyond mere lust."

"Please listen-" Arya tried to interject.

"No!" Eragon shouted with a wavering voice, causing the birds in the trees to flutter and fly. "When I walked into your room and saw Fäolin there, holding you, loving you, it fucking destroyed me!"

"Fäolin has nothing to do with this-"

"Fäolin has everything to do with this! He is weak, Arya! Maybe not in body, but his mind lacks even the slightest potential. I'm done just thinking it, I know these are ugly and judgmental words, but he isn't worthy of you! Every night I sat awake, looking north. Hoping you would come back to me-"

Arya's hands wrapped around his arms and yanked him forward, cutting off his words with her lips. For a brief moment, Eragon's world was whole. Then she released him. "I know I shouldn't, but I find myself gravitating towards you more than I ever did to Fäolin. You have proven that you care for me. I shouldn't have been so blind. I should have realized your feelings earlier. That's why I came."

"You feel obligated to repay the debt." Eragon said.

An uncertain look crossed her face. "Eragon, don't take this the wrong way. I don't love you. Not yet, at least. But the potential is there. The world had maimed me over the years, I'm not sure I know how to love anymore. But I figured that after all you put down for me, you at least deserve a chance." He knew it was true. All they had said to each other had been spoken in the ancient language after all.

"So that kiss-"

"I had to find some way to shut you up." She said through half-lidded eyes. When she saw the crestfallen look in Eragon's eyes she added "but that doesn't say I didn't like it." Arya was silent for a few moments. "I should hate you for what you did. Curing me the way you did, that was reckless. I am dispensable, Eragon. You as a rider are worth more than another elf. We can't have you destabilizing on us."

"You were never dispensable for me and from the moment Icarus found me, I was never stable to begin with. Besides, I had the egg. I knew someone could replace me." Eragon whispered.

"I would much rather be your colleague than your replacement." Arya grinned.

"You?" Eragon said in awe. With a wide motion, Arya gestured to the outstretched field beyond. Sure enough Saphira was there, circling around a much smaller but very real green congener. "Why am I not surprised." Eragon said. "Come, I would hold you. I haven't quite convinced myself I'm not dreaming yet." Arya stepped into his embrace as Eragon folded his wings around her.

"I meant to ask you, did something happen to your voice?"

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And there you have it. ExA has now been promoted to 'it's complicated'. Happy now? xs.

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Elemental Dragon Slayer - More like a mammoth in a china shop, looking back at it actually xS. I appreciate you trying to keep my feelings intact, though. I hope the progression was executed better in this chapter. Thanks for the review and see ya soon!

Watchman1 - You _will_ agree with it once you see what I have in store for you. I don't just kill characters because I feel like it. The gray world has something to do with it, I will tell you that much. I decided that some 80k words in, it was about time to introduce Arya as the next rider, please don't blame me. With The ExI thing, I'm striving to turn it into something between a good working relationship and a friendship, so I hope that's kind of coming together. We have a war to wage in the chapters to come after all! Thanks for your time and see ya 'round!

orca3553 - Roran will be making a reprise soon, and I promise not to have his story suck as much as it did in the books. We can't just leave him hanging after my amazing plot twist, after all. Angela will turn into an amazing wildcard sooner rather than later, but indeed she will always remain shrouded in secrecy. That is, after all, the Angela we all know and love. Indeed it is surprising to see you write more than 'liked it', but it's a welcome change. Please don't fall back into old habits! xD. Thanks for giving me your long-review-ginity I guess and stay shiny!

lockblock - You are on the right track concerning IxA, but also not quite. I have something... planned for those two. Their relationship is only further confirmed by this chapter, but I think I will leave you in the dark just a tit-bit longer ^^. Thanks for the kind words and see ya next time!

Stubbsie8 - The language was not passed down like the wings, but you will indeed be seeing more of it in the future. It is after all pointless to make those kinds of plot changes and not have them come back more often in the story other than just to give Eragon something to do during the celebration. Thanks for the review and see ya soon!

xXxGhostRiderxXx - Sorry, it's a thing I do and I couldn't resist xD. I could give you my three postulates concerning the universe if you would like. I bet you would love them. Anyways, thanks for the review and see ya next time!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Hey, the grammatical structure was reminiscent of Japanese. Although I'm far from proficcient in the language, I know at least the basics (and no, I didn't learn from Anime. I actually took courses in Japanese). I hope this chapter was good, as I feel it was really a make/break kind of thing I did here. Hoping my readers will say 'make' xD. Anyways, thanks for your time and see ya 'round!

thedemonkid - Run around like a headless chicken of course.

hamid - Islanzadí shared because she is trying to build a friendly relationship with Eragon. Contrary to the books, I actually made Eragon not grovel in submission at her feet. Arya came out of genuine curiosity, but maybe came after him because of something else. I guess you will have to wait to find out. I reply to everyone, so you don't have to thank me for that. As for your... gut feeling. Perhaps it has something to do with how I have punished Eragon at every turn for each but of power he gained. Who knows, perhaps I will not do that this time... perhaps I will...

Anthony - Uh, I guess I will go through them in order xD. 1) yes. 2) you could, but I don't know what you'd wanna hear. 3) On a scale from infant to super-sayan, somewhere between batman and Obama. 3) In a way, but keep reading to find out. 4) 23 paces across. 5) In this chapter. Hope I was of service, but I can't selectively spoiler the whole story for you, now can i? Thanks for your time though! See ya 'round.

rasmusemees - And I wasn't even intending for it to be that deep. Imagine what will happen when I go all out ^^. NOBODY WILL BE SAFE! Saphira did not gain any explicit power from Icarus, though she indirectly became stronger through Eragon of course. When she takes from Eragon, I suppose the reserve of power would be larger than usual. Concerning the update time, I write when I feel like it. I know where the story is going, so there is no writers block, but if I don't _want_ to write at a given time, it reflects in the quality of my work. I need to digest the story, make up little snippets and fragments in my mind, paste those together on paper and then work out the rough edges. Some days it takes longer than others. It's also the reason why update time grows exponentially as I get more stuff on my plate - less time to think and all. It's heartening to hear you are concerned for me, though. Thanks for the kind words and see ya next time!

Vizual-Era - Illium will be very much a part of this story. Blödgharm will be too, but not quite as prominently as our new blue-haired friend. Who knows, maybe Arya even took the two of them with her meaning you will see them next chapter. Icarus... what can be said for Icarus. Tough son-of-a-bitch to kill. Won't say more. You can fanboy all you like, especially since the hero did get the girl... kinda... I hope you didn't think it was overly rushed. At almost 100k words I really wanted to get around to that sooner rather than later, though. Cya!

HomoForElmo - That's just wrong. Though I suppose it can happen from time to time.

Tamerlorde85 - I hope you were reading this on the toilet then. Otherwise that must have been some mess. Hopefully this chapter patched up some of the wounds, but not in a bad way.

ArthurShade - Thank you for the kind words. Next chapter is here now, so the wait is over!

OechsnerC - Almost. Eragon left without her, but she did come after him with a hatched egg. What will happen next, that's the question.

Sir Failure - I worked that confession out, in case you didn't hear at the beginning. I kinda worked in a more elaborate version here instead that hopefully felt more in its place than it did back in chapter 18. Wouldn't want to see any potential future readers fumbling out over there, now would we xD. I actually ripped the name Illium (along with the blue hair) straight from another book, but I won't tell you which. I know Islanzadí feels a lot colder in the books, but that's simply not the way I wish to depict her. It is, after all, not my job to echo Paolini at _every_ turn. I just use his material and shape it the way I wish. Although Eragon got through the transitional stage fast, you will see in future chapters he is far from grown in to his powers/wings, although you do raise a good point! No worries, I'm always open to good criticism, even from non-writers like yourself. Thanks for taking the time to share and see ya 'round!

Ky111 - Kiiindaaa gone, but maybe not permanently, maybe ;p. More interesting plot-twists in the future for you! Thanks for the review and see ya!

ghostpost - You humble me, but I'm glad to hear you can appreciate my work over those of others ;p. If I make Eragon too powerful (which I really wasn't planning on and fighting really hard to keep at bay) I can always make Galbatorix more powerful. *oh look, he found a magical RPG launcher!* No problem, it's my pleasure to keep on writing and it's you I have to thank for reading it. See you next time!

jacobdark951 - Funny, putting down the foundation is always the part I struggle with most xD. I'm glad you like the story, though. I hope to keep you entertained for many more chapters to come!

Dragon Junke74 - Veep in my pants? You can be a shiny charizard, don't let anyone tell you otherwise! Live for your dreams! More tissue-box moments to come though. I was not planning on relenting for you. Stay Veep!

Iketaylor - I suppose the worst part of any good story for the reader is the ending, now isn't it? I'm sure you will find the time to read sooner or later, don't worry. Thanks for the kind words and see ya next time!

JaYDN78 - It appears he did. He's gone for good now... truly is... Arya does know and you found out in this chapter how she reacted to it. You are, in fact, correct. It was written by Erutan. I'm surprised you know it! Thanks for taking a moment to review and see ya next time!

sprtgln - Anonymity is an illusion. Just like 'him'. Whaddya know, next thing Eragon will be growing a beak and talons to match those wings. At least give me a hint though, are you connected to the mainland? Sicily maybe? I'm hoping to resolve this ExA issue sooner rather than later and I hope to have set the _right_ step in that direction this time. Alas, the reviews will tell, I suppose xD. Stay at it!

Mad hatter - Of course. Emotional Card is my middle name. You will see more of Ellesmèra in the remainder of the story, so no worries about that. I'm not gonna give you that perspective from Arya, simply because it would add very little to the plot. Sure, you could see her celebrate, but what after that? I suppose I could have you go through a day with Eragon from her perspective, maybe add a bit to their relationship that way. Icarus is a though one to kill. Maybe you will see more of him, maybe not. What is certain is that he left Eragon some very big shoes to fill. Anyways, thanks for the review and see ya 'round!

booklover1798 - I know right^^. And then to think I didn't even make it up myself... ;(.

Carnivore Does - I can only feel humbled at your praise. Thank you very much.

Hans - You'd better get that tattoo done in word-art style. It needs to stand out, if you catch my drift. Sooooo... I didn't contact you. Yeah. Exchanging emails does not work through comments like that. Fanfiction has a knack for erasing everything that _remotely_ looks like a link so I never received your adress ;(. Besides, I doubt you want to have it out there for everyone to see. Try PMing, I do believe that works better. You can call me Ryan if you'd like. It's okay if you don't write fanfiction. It's more of a stepping stone for me. I plan to move towards independent work in the nearby future. I can appreciate music of any sort, as long as I like it, but I have to admit you got me interested in the stuff you have collected now. Hope to hear from you soon! Also Toodaloo.

Nat - A little bit of fan service is a good thing. I can't keep promising things and never make them happen, right? Eragon and Arya will continue to drift closer together from now on, though they already crossed the first bridge in this chapter. Now let's get to your questions. 1) No. 2) I have not decided yet, but if the scar is still there, it will not be acting up anymore. 3) I have not decided yet, but even if he doesn't die, he will end in the dirt. Thank you for all the kind words and see ya next time!

hamid - Now now, there is no need to fret. Granted, Icarus may be gone in the form we have all gotten to know and love him in... But this is _Icarus_ we are talking about! I would like to think Icarus cares very little for 'peace', just his own motives. Nobody know Icarus's motives, not even me (that's what makes him so flippin' mysterious ;p). Thank you for the kindness and see ya 'round!


	22. Chapter 21

Hello everyone. A little bit of delay before this chapter was done, but I hope you will find it worth the wait. Enjoy!

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 **AN INTERLUDE BETWEEN CHAPTERS 19 AND 20 HAS BEEN ADDED (WHAT?! TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE UPDATE? YES INDEED!). GO AND READ IT BEFORE CONTINUING WITH THIS CHAPTER. IT ADDS MORE DEPTH TO THE ExA STORY!**

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"I meant to ask you, did something happen to your voice?" She asked.

Eragon sighed. "Icarus's parting gift, come to think of it." He said. "He passed it on to me. According to legend, his was so hauntingly beautiful it turned into a weapon at the end. A way to force people to do his bidding. I fear what I might become if I give into that temptation."

She shifted in his arms, removing herself from his embrace. "You fear that you will become like Galbatorix. That you will use that power to twist those around you to your will."

"And my biggest fear is that it will start with you." He softly whispered, not intending for Arya to hear.

"You have a good heart, Eragon. Such will never come to pass. Besides, now that I know, I can be prepared for it. You should embrace the gift, Eragon. Icarus gave you the potential to destroy, but he also gave you the power to bring great beauty to the world." Eragon's mind went back to the blood-oath celebration. Perhaps she was right.

"Only to those willing to listen. I fear I have become too alien, too other for others to truly listen to me with an open mind." He said, unconsciously flexing his wings. The act seemed to affect Arya in some way, for she appeared to briefly lose focus on him, her eyes glued instead to the two strong arches over his back.

"Maybe those features will only serve to draw others in." She replied evenly, not quite back in the present yet.

"So, you're a rider now." He said, trying to change the topic, staring out over the open field and away from her.

Fortunately, Arya decided to humor him. "His name is Fírnen." She said proudly.

"He and Saphira appear to already be on… friendly terms." He said uncertainly as the two dragons snapped at each other.

"The beginnings are there, but what will come of it, only time will tell." She said, turning to face him. Her impossible emerald eyes bored into his and neither was quite willing to look away. Eragon was the first who managed to break contact. Reaching down, he threw on his clothes again, clasped Vrael's cloak around his neck and picked up his blades. He was just about to sheathe them when he reconsidered.

"Your journey has been long, no doubt, but how about we finish our fight from earlier. You didn't really get a fair chance back then." Eragon said.

Something gleamed in Arya's eyes as she drew her one blade. "I thought you'd never ask." She said. The sound of steel clashing with steel was the only one to be heard on the clearing for well over half an hour. During all that time Arya didn't manage to get a single hit in. "How do you do that?" she panted, hands on her knees.

"Do what?"

"Sometimes you do something with those wings of yours. It makes you come off the ground ever so slightly, stay just out of reach." She said, glancing over his shoulder where the trailing edge curved down neatly over Vrael's cloak. Whether it had been coincidence or not, Eragon was happy the cloak was white. Any other color would have contrasted very badly with his wings.

"Neat move, isn't it? Over the past six weeks I managed to come up with a few strategies. Those wings were more of a liability before, I insisted on turning them into an asset. I only sprained them twenty-four times in the process." He said, preparing his blades again. Arya followed suit and soon they were going at it again. They fought with untreated blades, just like the first time, just the way Eragon liked it. This time Arya actively tried to go for the wings. No doubt she thought them heavy enough she could pull that move off, that he would be too slow to react. She, however, underestimated his agility. Dropping down he instead used the wing she was targeting to sweep her off her feet with a yelp, catching her moments before she hit the ground. "That was reckless." He said as their eyes locked. For a moment something sparked, but then he snapped out of it. Eragon would not pressure Arya into something she wasn't ready for. Pushing her back up and back to her feet, Eragon took stance on the other side of the field once again.

They battered away at each other again, Eragon could have easily taken her down on several occasions, but he was having _far_ too much fun for any of that. Then, only for a bare moment, his concentration slipped. Arya, the fact that their blades were not dulled likely slipping her mind, found the gap in his guard and lunged forward. An all too familiar pain burned through his side. "Dammit, Eragon!" Arya shouted, letting her blade clatter to the ground. "You are not supposed to get hurt, that's the only reason we are using real blades." Her hand moved to cover the wound.

"Like I said, the lack of sleep is beginning to catch up with me." When she continued to fret he added "it's but a scratch," easily able to push through the pain of this relatively minor nick.

"Like hell it is. At least allow me to heal you." She said. It was heartbreaking to see this caring side of her. Eragon hoped it would be an Arya he could bring to the forefront more often.

"Arya, although I appreciate your concern, it won't work. A… side effect of my transformation." He said, placing his hand over her own and gently removing it. Both came back stained with his blood. "It's already healing. In an hour the wound will have sealed and faded." He saw the doubt in her eyes. "Fear not, Arya. Mourning my loss will have to wait for another day. Come, we should get back to the convoy."

"What of Saphira." Arya asked.

"I'm sure she has other things on her mind right now. They will find their own way back, Arya. Trust in your dragon." Eragon glanced at Fírnen. He had no saddle, was also by far not large enough to carry a human or elf yet. "Did you come here by horse?" He asked.

"Fírnen flew beside me the entirety of the way here. I think he managed to scare the horse so much it has run away by now."

"Probably for the best. Come, walk with me." Eragon said, waiting for her to fall into step next to him.

"You mentioned nightmares, how bad is it?" She asked.

"I can deal with it." Was his evasive reply.

"How bad is it?" She asked, this time in the ancient language.

Eragon grimaced, knowing she had him cornered. "I have slept perhaps six hours over the past six weeks." He replied through gritted teeth, also in the ancient language. Next to him, Arya's step faltered.

"Six hours?!" She asked.

"The nightmares can be rather… disconcerting. They begin to haunt me during day-time as well now." He added.

"Eragon, you must promise to find me when this happens. If I can help, I want you to come find me."

"How can I make such a promise? I would keep you awake all night." He said, smiling wryly at her.

"I don't care. The reason you go through all of this is because of me. _Me_ , Eragon. I can at least partly return the favor, so promise to come find me if it gets too bad." She pressed.

"But Arya-"

"Promise." She commanded in the ancient language.

Eragon gave in with a sigh. "I promise." He said, defeated. Arya nodded, giving him one last concerned look before focusing on the path ahead. The journey back to the Varden encampment was rather uneventful, both Eragon and Arya content to remain silent as they rode side by side on the carriage holding the supplies. It took the better part of the day, but eventually they saw the endless ocean of tents appear on the horizon. His eyes glanced to the side, where Nemeya trotted along on her horse.

He had spoken to Brom a few days ago. When the next battle came, which would undoubtedly be soon, she would be spearheading her _own_ detail of men. Two hundred of them. He hoped the gamble would pay off and that she would find the means to change herself in that battle. He hadn't told her, not yet. Eragon would withhold that information from her until he knew she was ready to hear it… or until time had run out. A small group of figures detached themselves from the camp, slowly coming their way. The way they moved wasn't quite… human.

Eragon shot a questioning glance to his left. "I brought some friends." Arya said before jumping off the carriage. Eragon followed suit and allowed her to lead him to the hooded individuals. He counted thirteen of them in total. When they got closer he was surprised to see one of them was covered in naught but blue fur. "Now that I have become a much more valuable target as a rider, my mother would only allow me to leave if I took a guard with me. I protested, of course, but realizing the condition the Varden are in, I figured we could use their help and so I agreed. This is Blödgharm." She said, gesturing to the blue-furred elf. The elf initiated the ritual greeting and Eragon reciprocated.

He went down the line as the guards introduced themselves one by one. Invidia, Laufin, Uthinarë, Wyrden, Yaela as well as six other spell-casters. It wasn't until he got to the last elf he saw all too familiar blue hair spill out from underneath that cloak. "Illium?" He asked.

The other elf smiled and, instead of formally greeting him, pulled Eragon into a hug instead. "It's good to see you again. How have you been holding up?" He asked.

"Terrible." Eragon was forced to reply, for they had both spoken in the ancient language.

Illium quirked an eyebrow. "You must tell me all about it then, but that shall have to wait. You must be weary, so I will leave you to rest and get freshened up. We will speek more tomorrow." Eragon intended to do just that. After Arya had left to find a tent of her own, Eragon called for a bowl of fresh water to be brought and began to rinse away the grime he'd accumulated over the past two days. Behind him the setting sun forced its last few rays through the unzipped opening to his tent.

From the corner of his eyes he spotted the cot he'd spent so many hours on, barely any of which sleeping. Putting down the wet cloth with a sigh, he sat down on it and allowed himself to fall back onto the thin sheets. Eragon had no intentions of falling asleep, but all too soon he found himself back in that dark space where lights floated in the air. Garrow's deathbed was there also, except it was empty this time. The entity stood next to it. To Eragon this was rather unusual, he had never had the same nightmare twice. "Stop just standing there, you dunce." The entity said.

"You are not another figment of my imagination." Eragon said.

"Give the man an award."

"What are you?" He pressed. "I know you are not Selena. No mother would treat her child as you have."

The entity sighed. "I chose this form to appear approachable. I could change if you'd like." Before his eyes Selena's form melted into that of Garrow. "Or perhaps you would be more suited with your former teacher." It said before morphing into Icarus. "Maybe your enemy?" It added, changing into Durza.

"Alright, I get the point, stop giving me headaches please." Eragon replied, feeling slightly sick at the wave of bad memories that flooded him. A curious coincidence that struck him, was that all the forms he had taken were from his deceased loved ones and enemies.

"I will when you stop making excuses. You are doing a pretty shit job at replacing that bastard."

"Replacing who?"

"He was a bastard, a liar and a cheat, but say what you will, Icarus was a good gatekeeper. The voices that plague you day and night, the nightmares. You think those are the spirits inside your body. They are not."

Clearly the entity knew way more than he did on the subject. "Are you going to tell me what _is_ keeping me up at night?" He asked.

"Death. In its purest form. I bet you Icarus didn't tell you everything before he left." Eragon shook his head. "Yeah, typically him. Plunged you into this head-first without preparing you for what was to come. Unfortunately you can't run from this."

Eragon felt a pit forming in his stomach. "Run from what, exactly?"

The entity, still in Durza's form, began to explain with that silken tone the shade had liked to use. "This world is much larger than you, Eragon. It gave birth to primordial forces you can't even _hope_ to compare with. How about a little history lesson?" The question wasn't a question at all, but a polite way of decreeing Eragon was to shut up and listen. "In the beginning, there was chaos. The light battled the darkness and there was nothing but ever reaching land stretching one way and unending water the other. The water gave birth to Infinity, whilst the land gave birth to Eternity. Don't even bother imagining what they looked like, its beyond petty creatures like you."

The entity turned away from Eragon and made a few steps into the darkness. "From their union, Genesis was born. She is the one you now worship as 'mother earth', or what have you. From the grey, she created mountains and rivers. Unspoken was her greatest wish. All she had made was frozen, bound to stay unchanged for the world only knew Light, Dark, Infinity and Eternity. To see her creation come to life, she was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice. To break her creation itself. This is the very reason living things can exist. Whenever you use magic, whenever you run, whenever you _breathe_. All that energy comes from her labor. You take what she gave form, structured, and revert it back to its chaotic form. This process yields energy."

It was silent for a moment. "But Infinity and Eternity would have nothing of it, for the concept of an ending thing fundamentally challenged their existence. Unwilling to see her dream wither and die, she tore up her soul to make place for a variety of 'children', if you will. Their sole task was to end Eternity and Infinity and watch over the world she created. You are familiar with a number of her children, have met a few of them, in fact. There was Time, Famine, Pestilence, War, to name a few of the better known ones, yet there were also those of a more anonymous nature. Eternity and Infinity proved too strong, their existence so fundamentally different from Genesis's nature, that her spawn could not defeat them. Hence, they resorted to a more… drastic solution."

The entity turned back to face Eragon, Durza's hazel eyes burning into his own. "When you have a string and it stretches on in either direction, how can you stop it from being endless?"

"You cut it in half." Eragon replied.

"And that is exactly what they did. They tore Genesis's creation apart, limb from limb. The result was both as terrifying as it was magnificent. Two worlds, linked yet fundamentally different. And from that rift, another entity was born. Death. And this time, Infinity and Eternity found themselves outmatched. Together, the children of Genesis drove them back. Facing annihilation, Infinity and Eternity instead chose exile. Life in a gilded cage, awaiting the end of times so they could be free once more. Every prison, however, needs a warden. Do you have any idea who was to become this guardian?"

"Icarus?" Eragon made a lucky guess.

"Clever boy." The entity commented. "Indeed Icarus, the keeper of relicts was chosen for this task. In the days of the primordial war, his job had been to act as a strong-box of sorts. Whenever something that was deemed too dangerous was found, it was his task to absorb it, keep it away from the beings he was to shepherd. Eternity knew this, abused this. Together with her beloved Infinity, she created a trap. A… sickness of sorts. Icarus had seen it, recognized it, but he _had_ to intertwine it with his very being, such was his purpose. If left unchecked, it would have destroyed the universe as we knew it, letting the dead run rampant amongst the living. At first there was very little change, but after time, the malice within him began to eat away at his soul. It was then that he first came to see me, begging for me to take him."

"How do you know all of this?" Eragon asked.

"Haven't you guessed who I am yet?" The entity laughed. "Come on, think. Prove to me that you are at least a _hair width_ better than those fools you surround yourself with all day."

Eragon pondered for a few moments. Then it dawned on him. "You are Death."

The entity clapped slowly. "Very good, Eragon. As you understand, my time is rather precious - reaping of the deceased and all that - so I will keep it short. Even though I hoped my older brother would have come to his senses after our last meeting, he insisted on ending himself, even if it meant uncaging Infinity and Eternity."

"But you can fight them." Eragon interjected.

"I _could_ , fight them. No longer. As time passes, the world we live in grows closer to its original state, to the way Genesis first found it. The closer we come, the weaker we grow and the stronger Infinity and Eternity become. We need not fear a breakout, however, _as long as the gates are guarded_. Though I appreciate what that idiot brother of mine has tried to do, a human such as you cannot hope to fill his shoes. Your existence simply isn't capable of handling the power it entails and requires. It's the very reason Icarus has been searching for a way to force my hand for eons. We cannot allow him to leave, for he can never be replaced."

"But he _has_ died." The rider said.

"Unfortunately for him, I got wind of it before it was too late. Although I managed to stop him from doing something irreversible, I wasn't able to reinstitute him to your world. He now sleeps, condemned to the same prison as Eternity and Infinity. I need you to go there and wake him up. You may keep your newfound powers if you wish, you have not even begun to scratch the surface, so it won't pose much of a drain on me. Consider it payment for your services."

"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" Eragon asked.

"No." Death said as the world around them began to shift and change. "Look into my eyes. This part tends to be a bit nauseating." Eragon's eyes snapped to Durza's. For the first time he noticed something _other_ shone in those hazel eyes. A dark fire that the original shade never possessed. "Alright, we are here." Death said, breaking eye contact.

Eragon looked around, seeing naught but grey sand, a grey ocean, grey clouds and a darkness eating away at the very edges of it. "This is the beach Garrow described." He said, noticing the faint sound of screaming on the background.

"The restless souls, those who are not yet ready to pass the veil to the other side, claw their way to this place, hoping to find a pardon at the hands of either Infinity or Eternity. It's no place for humans, however. Those two are far from merciful or helpful. They find themselves twisted and broken. Pulverized and scattered across the winds of time. It's their screams and echoes that have kept you awake at night." At their feet, Icarus's broken form lay in the sand, half washed ashore. His wings were bent at unnatural angles.

"Why were you not able to wake him?" Eragon asked.

"Reviving someone is a bit like the rebirth of a phoenix. It can only happen if all the feathers are present. Take one away and the bird dies. You carry a part of him within you now."

"So it's up to me whether Icarus lives or dies?" Eragon asked.

Death turned to him, his hallowing gaze boring down deep into his own. "No, I could also reap your soul, tear his power from it and infuse it into Icarus's body. Out of courtesy I decided not to do so, but I will if you prove stubborn."

Eragon knew he was _very_ close to the abyss at that moment. "Alright, alright. So what do I do. Just, touch him or something?"

"That should prove sufficient. His body should reflexively pull it back in." Death answered with a nod. Not being left with much of a choice, Eragon carefully reached out, barely brushing his fingers across Icarus's forehead. He almost rocketed back when Icarus began to violently cough, his eyes shooting wide open. Eragon watched as the other winged figure coughed up lungs full of water, tears streaming down his eyes.

"No." Icarus lamented. "I was so close. I was so close…" His head shot up, staring straight at Death. "You." He growled, struggling to his feet. Power began to amass, the sheer force if it growing unbearable, strong to the point where Eragon felt it threatened to tear the very fabric of the world they currently inhabited apart. Death quickly gestured for Eragon to step behind him. Under the sheer power Durza's form began to crumble and fade. Eragon could not see what was unveiled beneath, however, Death's silhouette backlit by Icarus's fury.

"Enough." A female voice shouted Death, hands raised, forced Icarus's power back in on itself. The energy backlashed, frying Icarus where he stood and sending him rocketing across the beach. Two hundred paces away Icarus crashed into the sand, where he remained. When death turned, he saw no man, but a woman. Black hair streaked with white fell around a face that was as sharp as it was striking. "Come, you should leave this place. I will talk some sense into him when he's calmed down, but there is no use in placing you in harm's way. You have a world to save after all."

Moments later they were back in that endless dark room where the lights floated. "The nightmares will never be gone completely, but at least you have a fair chance now. I understand Icarus still has a lot of explaining to do, so I will even do you a favor. Should you ever wish to return to the prison, find a quiet, dark place. You will have to bring a sacrifice, but even small animals suffice. In return, I will bring you to him. You will never be able to physically interact with one another, but at least you can speak to him."

"Thank you, I guess?" Eragon said.

Death grunted. "No need to thank. It's become a bit of a habit for me and my brethren to clean up after Icarus. Just… don't mess with our world any more than necessary. It never ends well. You still need to dance, love, wake up thinking the sun shines just for you. The universe will not end on a for you imaginable time-scale. That's for us to worry about."

Eragon bowed his head in acknowledgement, forcing his body to wake up.

"Oh, and Eragon?" Death said, just before he began to regain control of his body. "Do take good care of my swords."

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Stubbsie8 - Well, whether you want it to or not, this story _is_ moving forward! To put the final complaints to rest I made chapter 19.5 happen, but I hope I can finally close the books on this issue once and for all after this chapter. Indeed Arya not commenting on the wings was a bit of a loophole and a mistake, but hey, even I am human xs. Greylands explained further in this chapter. I hope it answers a few of the questions you guys have been having about Icarus's backstory. Let's see what my audience thinks of it. Thanks for taking the time and see ya 'round!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - I added in chapter 19.5 to put the final complaints to rest, so hopefully you will find a bit of solace in reading it. Adds a bit more dimension and hopefully makes it feel a little less rushed still. Now I don't want to go hating on Rainxoxo (his work is amazing), but he pretty much just busted out the crazy glue and rammed those two together xD. If Arya and Eragon becoming mates in his story wasn't rushed, my name is the toothfairy. I understand what you are saying though. Thanks for the review and see you around!

orca3553 - Not so much a new ability as me dealing with Icarus's sudden disappearance. All planned, though. Just as I have a plan with Roran. No reveals or teasers yet, though! Not until we get a little bit closer to that part of the story line. Angela's relation to Icarus will be unveiled in due time, fear not. You are guessing in the right direction though. I particularly love the way how you write a brick of text and then end with 'that's all', it's a little ironic XD. Thank you for taking the time to write a lengthier review than usual and stay shiny!

Watchman1 - Hey, no need to backtrack on me now. Reviews are there for a reason. People say what was done badly so I can go and improve. I did just that, the same way I added in another interlude to further ease the reader into chapter 20. Gave Nemeya some attention (all be it a little bit less than I'd have liked), you will see more from her soon, though. No worries. Gotta keep the ball rolling in this chapter, let's see how people respond to me unveiling more of Icarus's backstory. You can make new abbreviations all you like, except I don't get what ACC is supposed to abbreviate here xD (probably just me being stupid). I was unable to make tuesday unfortunately, but I gave you one-and-a-half chapters instead of just the one this time. Also planning a party this weekend. Will be super busy so next chapter will be delayed also I'm affraid . Thanks for the long review and see ya next time!

OechsnerOC - Nope, not even close!

thedemonkid - I added in some more ExA just for you, albeit onesided. Thanks for taking the time and see ya!

ArthurShade - Yep, and a nice review to boot.

SirFailure - Well, romance _is_ one of the story tags, so it's not like I have much of a choice at this point xD. Angela is going to be my new enigma for you guys. Now that you know some more about Icarus, you can start guessing about her. Sweet nightmares tonight ^^.

Kroz Phantomville - Verry happy with your review I am indeed.

Iketaylor - Well, reviews are called reviews for a reason. They are there so people can tell me what I fucked up so I can change it xD. Anyone who does not do that kind of misses the point, I think. Why do you even use autocorrect? That feature has fucked up more lives than AIDS, and I'm nearly not joking.

sprtgln - My girlfriend has escaped, but I told her you live on the north pole. Should have at least two months to get a new name/passport and move to Canada. Just to torture you, I just think I might fuck up their relationship. Who knows? Bad things happen to those who beg...

Guest - HANS, IS THAT YOU?! I 'un-forced' the kiss a bit by adding in a small interlude in between chapters 19 and 20. Fäolin will be friendzoned so hard it will make even the manliest men cringe. You don't get to see flight in this chapter just yet, but in the next, maybe, just maybe you might. Thanks for the kind words and see you around!

TO THE REST OF YOU - I am really sorry, but I'm not going to get around to replying to each and every one of you today. It's 3.46 a.m. as I'm writing this, but I really wanted to get these chapters up before the (busy) weekend hits. The alternative would have been to delay until monday. Know that I have read each and every one of your comments and taken them to heart, but I really want to get some sleep before the alarm goes in four hours. I will try to get around to answering those who wrote something by chapter 22. Again, my apologies, but I'm getting kida loopy. So merry christmas and happy hunting.


	23. Chapter 22

Hello everyone! Update times are going to increase a little somewhat again as I will soon be busy studying chemistry again QQ (I hate it when summer ends). This chapter I started off with the reviews I missed in chap 21. I heard a few of you say you would rather see me update more than reply to everyone, so here is my offer: I will reply to those of you who have something to reply to. That is to say, I greatly appreciate all of those who do review, I really do! That being said, replying to all the 'nice chapter, good job.'-like reviews may not be the _most_ productive thing I can do with my time. Let me know your thoughts please! Now enjoy the chapter you have all been waiting so long for!

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He sat atop the cliff, arcing small bits of power between his thumb and index finger. Where before the driving force within him had been touched with an unpredictability almost border lining madness that erupted violently at times – not the least example of which now lay shattered in ten-thousand pieces across Tronjheim – it now sparked with a violent, destructive ire. No doubt the result of Death's touch.

Part of him was eager to test this new power. Another was terrified of what might happen if he unleashed it. The moon was low on the horizon, perhaps two more hours until sunrise. He was restless, unable to find sleep after all the revelations of last night. The reason of his waking, however, was not a _bad_ nightmare, which allowed him to circumvent his oath to Arya. She needed her sleep way more than he did. As did Saphira.

"You've changed."

Eragon turned to see Angela standing there. "And you are finally ready to talk to me again." He said.

"No need to act all hurt, now." She chastised. When Eragon didn't reply she sat down next to him. "Have your wings grown stronger?"

Eragon nodded. "I try to keep them tucked in like you showed – gods only know _how_ you know it, though – and have taken to using them in battle. They provide excellent counter weights."

"Then you are ready to learn to fly. Come on then, stand up." She said, pulling him to his feet.

"Angela, _how_. How do you know all of these things?!" Eragon asked in disbelief.

Giving him a penetrating stare, she answered: "why linger in the past when you can be learning in the present. Now step into the clearing before you do something stupid and insult me." Raising his hands in defeat Eragon did as she asked, taking a few steps back from her and ensuring he had enough space to comfortably spread his wings. "Alright, now spread those bad boys. Wide as you can." Eragon did as she asked, displaying the intricate pattern on the inside of his wings and holding them high and firm. "Alright, now beat them down as hard as you can."

Pain sheared across his back as Eragon forced his wings down, using muscles he didn't even know he had. Even so he managed to attain a good ten feet of altitude. Any feeling of achievement, however, was quickly erased when on the upbeat his wings caught an equal amount of wind, sending the ground his way at breathtaking velocities. Angela averted her eyes as he crashed into the dirt face first. "Right, I suspected as much." She muttered.

"I think I broke something…" Eragon groaned as he touched a particularly sensitive rib.

"Stop whining and get up." She said, impatiently waiting for him to struggle to his feet. Unconsciously he flapped his wings to remove the dust and put all the ruffled feathers back into place. When he turned Eragon saw Angela, who he had just showered with debris, giving him a murderous look. He smiled sheepishly in apology and stepped a few paces away. "Right." She said, dusting herself off. "Put your wings out again."

Eragon did as she asked, preparing himself for a world of hurt when he saw a hand reach out for one of them. Indeed Angela grabbed one of his primaries and gave it an uncompassionate tug. A strange shiver ran up his wing as his feathers rearranged themselves to a more comfortable position. "Ouch."

"Big baby. Take a look at your wing now." Eragon did as she asked, looking to the side. Sure enough, most of the feathers had tilted some, turning from a solid carpet of feathers into a more permeable alternative. "Remember what this feels like. Use this on the up beat."

"I will try. So what next?" Eragon asked.

"Now you demonstrate you have been listening." Was Angela's reply. Without warning she shoved him off the cliff.

Eragon shouted a colorful insult to the witch as he fell into an uncontrolled dive. He tried to twist himself without much success and so he experimentally moved his left wingtip an attempt to turn himself upright. It was clear he underestimated his velocity, however, as he began to swing around in a corkscrew. The ground was coming at him fast. Too fast to survive. Then something within him, a dormant instinct kicked in, making him move his wings in a way he'd never have considered himself.

Coverts tilted forward, turning the wing cup shaped, he began gathering air and altering the direction of his descent. His fingers could have grazed the sand, but in the nick of time Eragon managed to pull out of the dive and leveled. Experimentally he made a few strong beats, regaining considerable altitude. Lazily he swung around and began the climb back to the top of the cliff. All things considered, for the first time in half a year he was actually having fun. With a somewhat wobbly looping he aimed for the clearing, completely botching up the landing and scraping the top two layers of skin from his knees.

"Cup your wings on the landing next time. Gather the wind instead of using it to stay aloft." Angela said, leaning against a tree to his left.

"You pushed me off a cliff." Eragon said flatly, not looking at her.

Angela completely ignored his comment. "Stick to short flight for now until you build up more muscle strength. Don't try anything fancy-fair until at least three months from now."

"You pushed me off a goddamn cliff!"

"How do you think birds learn to fly? I expect to see you in my tent every night from now on. You have much to learn still." And with that she turned and left him there on the clearing. Eragon still felt the remainders of adrenaline pulse through his body. He hoisted himself up against a tree, leaning against it as he watched the sunrise. In hindsight he felt kind of bad for not seeing Arya. She'd made it clear what her wishes were and she would no doubt ask him if he'd slept well. Should that question come in the ancient language… well…

He allowed himself a few more moments to watch the sun rise over the Varden encampment before he got up and lazily stepped off the cliff. _'What have you been doing all night. Your outbursts have been attempting to disturb my sleep since two hours before sunrise.'_ Saphira's grumpy voice muttered in his head.

' _Look up.'_ Eragon replied making sure he wasn't backlit by the sun from where she was. Her reply was the equivalent of an exhilarated whoop as she quickly unfolded her own wings knocking down three tents in the process, and made her way to join him. Eragon had half the mind to pity the poor soldier who crawled out of the shredded tent cloth and broken support beams.

' _You spent all morning doing this without telling me?'_ She chastised him.

' _Actually, I spent all morning being pushed off a cliff by Angela.'_ Was his even reply as he shared the memory with her.

' _I swear I will lick that bloody woman from top to bottom. She could have killed you.'_ Saphira grumbled darkly.

' _I actually think she knew perfectly well what she was doing. I would rather not dwell on it when I could be doing this instead.'_ Eragon twisted his wings, describing a wide corkscrew around his dragon and ending up on the other side of her.

' _Is that the best you can do?'_ Saphira replied playfully, performing a series of loops and twists around him.

' _Angela told me to stave off the acrobatics until the musculature in my wings grows strong enough to handle it.'_

' _As much as I hate to admit it, she was probably right. Your flying is already beginning to look tired, wingbeats forced, like a fledgling.'_

' _Thankfully I have you with me.'_ Eragon said, angling himself so he was flying level above her. Folding in his wings he caught the spike on her back just north of the hollow between her shoulder blades. He felt something… strange come from Saphira. _'Come now, just because I have wings doesn't mean we will never fly together ever again.'_ When she didn't reply he playfully added: _'Why would I do all the work when someone else can do it for me.'_

' _Those words are more heartening then you think.'_ Saphira eventually replied.

' _I know you will always be there to catch me if I fall.'_ He added, meaning both the literal and the figurative interpretation of those words.

' _Always.'_ Saphira confirmed, lazily flying circles through the air.

' _What of Fírnen. Have your interests changed?'_

' _He will grow up to be a fierce dragon.'_ She said. He knew the two had spent considerable time together since their first meeting and sure enough there was something beyond kinship in Saphira's demeanor.

His legs began to ache where his dragon's scales rubbed against them. He tried to hide the pain, to prolong this moment just a bit longer, but Saphira had already noticed. _'Shall we head back?'_

' _That's probably for the best. You know, before your scales reduce my legs to bare flesh. You are not wearing your saddle after all.'_ In acknowledgement she angled herself down to the ground, heading back to the camp. After bidding her farewell, Saphira left to hunt. Meanwhile Eragon set out to find the tent of a certain elf. On the way there he dropped by the supply stashes, taking half a break and a handful of berries and nuts with him. He knocked on the tent pole twice to announce his presence and, after her verbal reply, entered. Arya was already up and about, carefully rearranging the contents of one of her travel packs. She briefly glanced up.

"Good morning Shadeslayer" She said formally.

So apparently they were back to formal now. Forcing himself through that realization, he replied in kind. "Good morning, Arya Dröttningu. Did you sleep well?"

"As well as I could. The soldiers in the next tent over snore with conviction. How about you?" There it was, the dreaded question.

"I slept briefly, but longer than usual."

"You should have come here. You promised." Arya replied without looking up from her work.

"Only if the nightmares were unbearable. The fact that I didn't come see you after swearing a compelling oath in the ancient language should lead you to your own conclusions."

"If no nightmares, then what else?"

"May I sit?" Eragon asked. Arya gestured for the chair opposite her cot, still not looking up. After seating himself Eragon was silent for a few moments. "Do you ever think there is more to the universe than we can see or explain?"

"You mean to ask if I believe in a god."

"I know you don't. Oromis was very thorough in explaining the views of the elven race upon the world."

"Then you already know the answer to your question."

"I-" Eragon caught himself before pressing on. He looked at Arya, really _looked_ at her and realised she was simply not ready to hear the truth. True, she would listen and give her rational and logical opinion, but in her mind she would brand him insane. How he wished he could allow her into his mind. "Of course Arya, my apologies."

Eragon sat there awkwardly, wondering if this was the right time to leave before making this awkward situation any worse. "I brought you breakfast." He said, handing her the bread, nuts and berries.

"That…" Arya said, taking them and finally looking up, "was actually very thoughtful. Thank you." She carefully took a bite, as if having to convince herself the bread wasn't stale. Then she looked at him again. "Have you eaten yet?" Eragon shook his head. "Then share this with me." She completely ignored his protests, tearing the bread in half and pushing it into his hands. Reaching over to her desk she took a small bowl and deposited the nuts and berries inside, placing it between them.

"Isn't this… strange to you?" Eragon asked, taking a bite out of the bread.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you are sharing a meal with me and… let's be honest, you barely know me."

"I could say the same for you." Eragon wanted to say that he wasn't the one who kept running away, then suddenly popped up out of nowhere and kissed him, but refrained. Arya, who saw the internal struggle on his face sighed and put down her bread. "Alright, how about this. At sunset, after you are done with your duties, meet me one league north of here. There we can talk undisturbed and you can get to… know me better." Eragon was _very_ careful to keep his mind out of the gutter (as are my faithful readers).

"It would be my pleasure." He replied gracefully. They ate breakfast in silence before he excused himself and headed off to the practice range. He needed to let out some pent up anxiety and target practice was just the thing. His tent was close by, so retrieving his bow and arrow was but a small effort. The range was surprisingly empty. Then again he would also be sleeping right now if he had a choice. With daunting precision he proceeded to hammer arrow after arrow into the bullseye.

"That looks deadly."

"Want to stand there and try it for yourself?" Eragon suggested. He knew it was Illium. As he had heard no footsteps, so it must have been one of the elves. That, and Eragon could recognize that voice out of thousands.

"A most tempting offer" Illium grinned. Eragon knocked another arrow into the bow and pulled the string taut. This once, intent on pinning his last remaining arrow in between the others, he pulled it back just an extra bit. The wood croaked and split under his fingers until it shattered in his hand, sending splinters flying everywhere. Eragon stood there rather dumb folded.

"My bow…" he muttered staring at his hands, the realization it had broken still a little somewhat surreal to him.

"Eragon are you alright?" Illium asked.

Icarus, all the dead bodies, the blood, Durza, the craze of battle. All of that had not mattered on some strange, superficial level. But this, this was his bow. His _only_ remaining connection to a life… less complicated. "My bow…"

"Forget the bow, you're bleeding."

Eragon stared at his bleeding hand palms. "I suppose I am."

"You are absolutely crazy. Come, let's get away from this place." Illium said, pulling him away by his arm. "What has gotten into you lately. Ever since I got here you have not seemed like yourself. What is it that troubles you so."

Eragon was quiet, uncertain whether to answer. "What would you do if you were thrown into a world unlike any other you know. One born of superstition and inexplicable things."

"I would look for a way out."

Eragon smiled wryly. "I fear it's too late for that. My commitment to that world is now permanently attached to my back. They are heavy burdens to bear, but I shall carry them with dignity."

"Burdens are easier to bear when shared."

"There are truths so dark, so enormously profound that they are not meant to be spoken. Truths that you are not ready to hear and even if you are, not ready to accept."

"And somebody must have bespoken them to you. Truths don't simply materialize out of nothingness. If you will not tell me what bothers you, at least tell me who." For a time, Eragon did not reply, then he unsheathed both his swords. He held Aurora and Umbra in his hands for a moment, taking in their familiar weight.

"Take them." Eragon said, swinging the swords so he held them at the blades, extending them to Illium. "Don't worry, they won't bite." He added when he saw the elves' hesitation. Slowly other hands than his took the hilts of the blades and gently took them. "Close your eyes. Don't feel the blades, _feel_ the blades. Tell me what you feel and whatever you do, don't hesitate."

"A battlefield." Illium replied, twisting the blades around him in a fluid dance. "Blood that flows like water, twisted malice, sorrow… death."

"And there is your answer." Eragon replied, taking the blades from Illium's hands.

"Wait – Eragon, I don't understand."

"It's better that you don't. Trust me. On a lighter note, there is something I have been meaning to ask you." Eragon said, banishing the dark specter that hung over them. "I should have to speak to queen Islanzadi first, should you choose to accept, but I thought it best to ask you before doing anything rash."

"You have piqued my interest now." Illium said, turning to face him. "Tell me what madness you have concocted this time."

"An invitation."

"To what?"

"I am looking for lieutenants. Liaisons who can act as a link between me and those… less accepting. Figureheads who can strike both fear and inspiration into our enemy. Who can end a battle without shedding a single tear of blood. It would be a long and arduous process of course. Quite frankly I don't even know if it will work."

"Would I be the first?"

"I fear another has had the pleasure. She doesn't quite know the… full extent of what I require from her yet. Soon she will, though. She is close to her destination. I could introduce you if you wish or search her out on your own. Her name is Nemeya."

"I have heard that name. Whisperings of it among the men. They appear to respect her."

"It wasn't always so. Soon they will have to do more than just respect, though. Soon they will have to obey her as well."

"Brom has agreed to this?"

Eragon laughed. "That was the easy part. I will have to make _her_ agree to it as well. She isn't ready yet. She was a servant when we first met. In less than half a year she has made it to commander under my guidance. I fear it might tear her apart."

"When do you plan to tell her?"

"When time demands it and not sooner. It won't be long, though. I can't escape the feeling that a battle is brewing no matter how hard we try to deny it."

"Yes, I have felt it also. A nagging sense of danger."

"Tell me you will at least think about my proposal. Truth be told, it's a far shot from sword hand to the queen herself-"

"I'll do it."

Eragon was a little bit baffled. "Just like that? I mean, it's not that I'm not happy or anything, but It's just…"

"Not what you are used to from an immortal and slow race like us? Don't fool yourself, Eragon. When have I ever been like my brethren? Besides, with the queen I will never be more than a glorified servant."

"Then I shall speak to the queen."

Eragon spent the remainder of the day running errands, making social calls and lazing around with Saphira. He'd had a brief run in with Faolin who did nothing but shoot him angry looks across the large open space in the middle of the camp while he spoke with Brom. They had discussed relocating to a place with more readily available resources, but the old man had decided against it until they'd received word from the Dwarves. The last messenger from Tronjheim had informed them their allies were preparing to march, but as was the dwarves remained the only notable absentees.

Nemeya had sought him out about – of all things to talk to him about – boy troubles. She had been adamant about keeping his identity a secret, which only served to annoy Eragon even further. He'd told her the usual lies that everyone needed to hear in such a situation. That it would all sort itself out in time and that he would be a fool not to like her in return. All in all it left him rather unmotivated to go deal with his own girl troubles. Sunset was almost upon them however, so he was left with little choice.

Ensuring he had enough space, he spread out his wings. The members of the Varden around him all stopped and stared as he brought them down with brutal strength. The resulting maelstrom wound up sending a few of them to the ground, but he was airborne. He angled himself north, lazily drifting over the hot air currents. Up ahead he saw a small lake, surrounded by some sparse shrubbery. The growth wasn't dense, but just enough to shield from prying eyes.

This time he tried to cup his wings on the landing like Angela had told him. Although he still hit the ground running, his speed wasn't such that he reopened the scabbed wounds on his knees from earlier. He carefully made his way to the edge of the lake. Sure enough Arya was there, waiting for him.

"A pick nick?" he asked, noticing the variety of bowls and dishes she'd set out around her.

She looked up, not having noticed his approach. "In times of war we must savor those small luxuries where we can find them. Besides, after you brought me food this morning, I only saw it fit to return the favor. Come, join me."

It was a hypnagogic experience, dinner with Arya. "How is your mother doing? It has been some time since we last spoke." Eragon said in an attempt to get the conversation going.

"She is well,I think. A little startled to first meet Firnen, but otherwise the coldhearted woman she always is." Arya replied calmly, selecting a few berries.

"She seemed rather concerned about you when I last spoke to her."

"I wouldn't know. In the seventy years we spent apart we have alienated from each other."

Eragon choked on his bite of food. "Seventy years?" He asked silently.

"After the death of my father at the hands of the tyrant that occupies Uru'baen I sought for a way to take the fight back to him. At the time my people were even more passive than they are now if you believe such a thing possible. When Brom came to us with Saphira's egg in search of a warden, it presented the perfect opportunity. When I insisted she banished me from my home. My mother deigned me below such a 'trivial' task."

 _No, she was afraid of losing you too_ Eragon thought, a clear picture beginning to paint itself before his eyes.

"It's ironic, actually." Arya laughed awkwardly. "She would be horrified at what we are doing here." When she noticed Eragon's quirked eyebrow she elaborated. "The fact that I might even _consider_ you as anything more than a distant acquaintance would abhor her. You are, after all, much younger than I am."

Eragon genuinely smiled now. "I know it is impolite, but please indulge me. How old are you exactly?"

She gave him a look, but did reply. "One-hundred-and-two."

"Ah, then you are but twenty years my senior." He said in the ancient language.

"But that's impossible. You have not been a rider for that long."

Eragon tapped his head. "In here I have lived lifetimes. Some more famous than others, but I recall their lives as vividly as my own."

"You must tell me about them some time."

He shrugged. "There isn't much to say."

"Come on, everyone has a story of some sort to tell. Imagine the disappointment once the public finds out the embodiment of their resistance has no childhood anecdotes."

"Well, there was this one time…" he glanced to the side. Arya was doing an expert job at hiding it, but he knew she was all ears. "A farmer from the next village over brought some horses. I must have been perhaps six or seven years old, but my cousin pointed at the largest mountain visible from our village and dared me to race him there. At first I thought the farmer would decline, but he merely smiled and told us to pick our horses."

"What did you do?"

"I walked up to the biggest, baddest horse of the lot. Its name was – I kid you not – Trample. I put on my best adult voice and told it 'know your master'!"

"So what happened?"

"Soiled knickers and a broken wrist." Eragon replied, looking down at the ground. To his surprise he was greeted by Arya's genuine laughter and it was a sound to behold both breathtaking and heartbreaking in its beauty. He vowed that from that moment onwards he would spend his life trying to make her laugh. Their moment, however, was crudely disturbed by the weather.

"I think it's going to rain." Arya commented, her hand outstretched into the air. In reply Eragon moved his wing over her, the feathers designed as not to become waterlogged. No sooner had he done so or the rain broke loose in all its pent-up violence. In the process Arya ended up huddled closer than either of them had likely intended. "The food is drowning." She said quietly in a meek attempt to break the awkwardness.

"Let it." Eragon replied, awkwardly sneaking an arm around Arya's shoulders. For a moment she tensed against him and he was sure she was going to throw it off, but to his surprise she relaxed into his side. "We should do this more often." Eragon said silently.

"We should indeed." Arya replied. Suddenly she tensed against him once more, but this time it wasn't directed at any of his actions. "Hold very still." She whispered. Eragon did as she asked, holding his breath.

"What do you sense?" Eragon asked after a few moments of silence.

"Footsteps, thousands of them."

"The Dwarves?" Eragon suggested and hoped.

"No, these are heavier and further in between. More…"

"Human." Eragon finished for her a grim expression on his face. The direction from which the army approached left no further doubt as to whose soldiers it were that approached. "Arya." He said, falling back to his role as leader of the free riders. "Run back to the camp as fast as you can and warn Brom."

"What about you?" She asked breathlessly as he rose, the rain now cascading down over both of them.

"I will go and see how bad it is." Eragon replied before unfurling his wings to their fullest extent. "Be careful Arya." And then he was gone in a torrent of disturbed wind and rain.

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jacobdark951 - Good to hear that the alterations were not all for naught ;). Thank you for the heartening words!

Carnivore Does - Although I speak eight languages myself, none of them are Scandinavian. I will keep your offer in mind should I ever require a translation of some sort! Kiitos ajastasi!

Elemental Dragon Slayer - QQ. It's always something with you! Nothing I can do pleases you! I... I think we should break up. Glad you approve of the interlude, though. I put a lot of time into it and wasn't sure people would go back to read it xD. Thanks and see ya 'round!

Anthomy - Keep reading and find out. I might even have the two do a rap-battle at some point to fight it out ;).

booklover1798 - Whoop whoop! Thanks for the kindness!

Dragon Junkie74 - Veep bitch, get out the way. Try that next time you are standing in some ridiculously long line. I did it at the mall today and it worked wonders (they all dropped dead laughing). Busy weekend was rather unenjoyable. This weekend will be busy also I fear, not to mention I will be gone Monday through Wednesday. Love you too!

Mad hatter - Well, as you know now, I did add some Arya POV and - who knows - the next chapter might be from her POV as well! I'm gonna quit replying to the chapt 20 review now, because I know you wrote something for 21 as well xD. Guess I will have to scroll up in a second to continue typing here.

And we are back again. Good to hear you read the interlude. Took a lot of time to write xs. It's always fun to doll around with omnipotent forces, right? Nothing possibly hazardous on the horizon here for Eragon... absolutely nothing... Anyways! As for Oromis, stop spoiling the story for yourself. It's totally not like I'm here to fix Paolini's plot holes or anything! Thanks for the love and stay shiny!

Vizual-Era - Thank you for all the kindness! It's the biggest compliment to hear that you approve of the way I have taken your criticism into account. Thank you for that. Death will certainly have a part to play, though I will not reveal anything about how large that role is or what it will be. Not an Icarus substitute though, so you can forget about that! That is indeed Angela's job. I try to reply to all the reviews because I want each and every one of my readers to know they are appreciated and I don't have that many ways of showing it. Thanks for your time, though!

vally9437 - If you liked that, you might want to look into work by Enya.

Stubbsie8 - I will have to get a poll started to see whether my readers will swallow an Arya with wings. In my personal opinion I think it will make for too much of a 'picture perfect' finale to be true, so if it were up to me, I don't think that is going to happen. Waiting all the time must be a pain while I craft a new chapter out of my blood and tears ;). That's part of the reader experience though. Thank you for your time and see ya!

Tamerslorde - In what way was it OOC? Please tell me so I can do better next time! We strive for perfection here after all!

thedemonkid - ExA is what we live for! Twists and turns as well, in case you were wondering.

Watchman1 - Well, who knows what might happen with Nemeya. Death is a somewhat obscure term in this story after all ^^. It's good to hear that the interlude fixed a lot of problems that - admittedly - were there. Icarus goes back to way before the grey folk. He is like dawn-of-creation old. Even older than death itself. Icarus will still be there to advise more than anything really. Eragon and Icarus will never be able to interact beyond anything more than speech anymore. I don't know if you have ever told me I have a knack for this sort of thing, but with every time somebody says it, I stop denying it a little more xD. Thank you for the kindness!

orca3553 - Of course Saphira and Firnen will become mates in due time. What else did you expect? xD. Get out of here with your SaphiraxShruikan shipping! Eragon will go around marking people for life as he damn well pleases. Until Brom stops him that is... Thanks for taking the time to review and stay shiny!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - A bit of the supernatural vibe, maybe. Although there won't be enough of it in here to warrant a genre-change, there will be brushes of it here and there. It's one of my favorite subjects to write about but it's one a lot of audiences will shirk away from. You keep looping around the I-liked-it's as much as you want. I won't stop you ;). Careful with that chevy, it used to be my dad's!

JaYDN78 - Should I redub my story to 'the matrix'? ^^. Stuff always does get a lot more fun when omnipotent forces are added to the admixture!

booklover1798 - Whenever is death _not_ a badass in stories. Sharin' the love right back at ya!

hamid - Welcome back! This is _like_ the best chapter? Please tell me where the actual best one is. I shall have to pull it through a shredder. Nothing is better than MY work! *laughs evilly*. More backstory on Umbra and Aurora will follow in due time, but as usual you can be certain it will be interesting when we get around to it. Keep those supernatural vibes coming!

praylearnwrite - Hello sprtgln (there, I exposed you to the world!) Bad things happen to everyone. Except me, that is (yes, get over it). It's the perfect way of ensuring ExA interaction, isn't it? Hope to see you around again soon and stay shiny!

SilentSpectator101 - *takes revolver and shoots himself* Dammit, I knew I was missing something. Thanks for taking the time to point that out to me! I will make sure not to make that mistake again. I hope it wasn't a complete turnoff for you. See you around and love ya!

dragonrider101 - Eragon, The Tool, Shadeslayer. Has a certain ring to it, don't you think? Probably I should go back and change everything up a bit ;). I shall have you know I never even _glanced_ at Mass Effect. I got the idea from a rather obscure series of books that I like myself. Not sharing, though! I am aware of the Saphira problem and am actively trying to make up for lost time in these later chapters. I hope it all works out to an acceptable average xD. Hopefully you are still with us and stay shiny!

ArthurShade - The best plans are those hatched out since chapter one ;). That's the very reason everyone keeps being like 'OMG great plot twist!' It's just me knocking over the dominoes you never knew were there ^^. Thank you for the kindness, though, and see you soon!


	24. Chapter 23

So… yeah. It's been a while, almost three weeks, and I think I owe you guys an explanation. Last week university started again and the week before I spent moving stuff back and forth so my house was livable again after the summer. In between all the hassle, late night class reunions featuring (lots of) alcohol and the mandatory 'vacation' feeling induced by my parents, I found myself without much if any time to write. Now that everything is running smoothly again I promise the next update will come much sooner than this one, so please forgive me for the inconvenience. Trying a bit of a different writing style here, let me know what you thought! Enjoy!

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It was as if all hell had broken loose. Soldiers ran to and fro, franticly gathering their armaments and armors before rushing towards the northern edge of the camp. Meanwhile the rain kept gushing down on them unrelentingly. Some distance away Eragon appeared in a swoop of white and gold. He made his way to Brom and although she couldn't make out the entirety of his words, she vaguely heard him say " _fourty-thousand"_.

The Varden numbered one fourth of that at best and Arya knew they were in for a long night. She was glad she'd spent considerable time sharpening her blade before leaving Du Weldenvarden. Behind her a woman with flowing hair and green eyes appeared. She was dressed clad in combat leathers and had a bow slung over her shoulder. "Eragon, you can't be serious!" She shouted as she approached the two men who were still in the middle of a heated discussion.

Bidding Brom farewell she saw him turn to her and whisper some quick words into her ear. The girl nodded thoughtfully, her demeanor changing from fearful anger to anxious nervousness. When Eragon pulled away she looked at him for a good two seconds before nodding and running back the way she came from.

' _Arya, what's happening?'_ A distinctly male voice spoke in her head.

' _We are being ambushed.'_

' _I want to help. I'm big and strong enough now!'_

' _Absolutely not. We are outnumbered four to one. I will not see you fall, you mean too much to me for that to happen. Please, Firnen. Believe me when I tell you that you are not ready. Not yet.'_

' _But Saphira is going.'_ He complained.

' _Saphira can bite a soldier in half and breathe fire. Give it a few more months and you can do that as well. That is when you will be ready.'_

Arya tensely waited for his reply. First there was the mental equivalent of a huff, then followed Firnen's answer. _'Fine, I will linger south of here, but the moment you are in unacceptable danger I_ will _come for you.'_

When she focused on the world around her once again she saw Eragon's face right in front of hers. "Arya, would you please help me saddle Saphira?" He asked quietly.

"Of course." She replied, falling into step next to him. "Who was the girl?"

"Getting jealous?" Eragon replied lightly. When she saw her look he quickly corrected himself. "A protégé of mine. Her name is Nemeya and she has been under my tutelage for some time now. Today she will lead a detachment of soldiers into battle for the very first time. Needless to say she was… anxious."

"More outraged if you ask me." Arya said dryly as she walked by Saphira, taking a brief moment to greet her.

"Be that as it may, we don't have time for her to be angry. Either she finds a way to make it work or she and those under her care will find a swift end at the hands of our enemy. Not that I would let it come that far of course." Eragon stopped at his tent and pulled a leather flap that just peeked out from underneath the sturdy fabric. Out came an elaborate network of straps and patches tailored to exactly fit the back of a certain female blue dragon. The make-shift saddle Brom had made was due for replacement, the straps worn and almost overstretched, but it would have to make do for one more battle.

Arya reached down to grab the other end and together they hoisted it over Saphira's back. Eragon was quick about fastening the straps. He was about to jump on when he hesitated for a moment, then stopped altogether and turned around. "Arya," he seemed to struggle for words for a few moments, "be careful."

He words warmed her heart in a rather unexpected way. She found a slight smile on her face when she replied. "You too." Saphira spread her mighty wings and took to the sky. She looked forward to the day she would share that same experience with Fírnen. Quick on her feet she instead darted to the frontline over the ground. There she found most of the available soldiers with grim expressions as they watched the opponents many times their number move into battle formations. Amongst the enemy ranks large fires were lit, casting a fortitude of light over the barren fields. Some distance away Brom was shouting commands of his own, trying to get the Varden's sloppy lines into formation.

Fäolin, Blödghram, Illium and the other elves fell into formation behind her, swords drawn. She followed their example. "What's the plan?" One of the female elves behind her asked.

"Live." Was Arya's solemn reply. The battle hadn't even started yet and everyone was already thoroughly drenched by the rain, weighing down their leather equipment and turning the hilts of their blades slippery; it made her wonder how the enemy soldier were doing. Arya glanced up only to see that Eragon was no longer alone. Opposite him flew another dragon, both larger and read. Atop the beast sat a man with wavy black hair. There was no way she would be interfering in their battle so instead she looked ahead, noting that amidst the soldiers stood a man both taller and more regal. Her suspicions about the man were confirmed when he started barking orders and the Empire's war machine ground into motion.

Brom instructed his own men in turn and soon there were arrows flying back and forth between the two armies as the footmen approached one another. The deadly projectiles harmlessly bounced off her wards, but next to her there were a few men not quite so lucky. Instead they fell to the ground, hands clutched around arrows wherever they were embedded in their bodies. A terrible death, but unavoidable during war. She had long since stopped trying to help them. For every life she saved here, another was lost somewhere else not to mention that it would cost her precious energy. Energy that was best channeled into ensuring the swift and total death of those opposite her. Still, it was… counterintuitive not to reach out and help.

Within moments the marching soldiers broke into a full run, their battle cry filling the air. The Varden responded in kind. She held her position, sword at the ready, patient, waiting. It was not until she saw the white in the eyes of her opponent she lashed out like a viper. It was one of the first moves she had been taught, by her father himself no less, and it had always served her well. Arya moved about with extraordinary grace, carving her way through soldier after soldier until she felt something touch her mind. Suddenly she was no longer surrounded by allies, instead standing amidst a sea of dead bodies with her fellow elves while the Empire's soldiers smirked. "They have magicians. Find them and kill them." She said in her mother tongue.

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

"So we meet again." Murtagh said, something between a grim expression and a smile on his face. "This time, I fear, I have explicit orders to capture you."

"I will try not to kill you." Eragon replied, for the man opposite him had clearly indicated a wish to see Galbatorix's downfall. He didn't know how the other rider had come to be, but he must have had to endure a lot of pain and cruelty before giving his allegiance to the mad king.

' _Eragon, we cannot kill him.'_ Saphira said.

' _Why? He actively opposes us. If he chooses to cross swords with me, I fully intend to end him right here and now.'_

' _If you end him, you will also end his dragon. We need him, Eragon. My race is already close to extinction and we don't need to make it any worse. His corruption is not irreversible, not yet. I am confident we can undo the damage Galbatorix did.'_

Eragon sighed. Although he didn't agree with her, now was not the time to pick a fight. Sensing her uneasiness he spoke to Murtagh in the ancient language. "I swear I will try to get you and your dragon through this war alive so you may live to serve a more peaceful world or end you then if you prove incapable of it."

"That is a very stupid vow to make." Murtagh commented.

"I never said anything about not hurting you."

"You think you can hurt me?" The other rider said with a confident expression.

' _Why do people continuously underestimate us?'_ Saphira asked.

' _I have no idea, but it matters little. It's their mistake, not ours.'_ Eragon replied. _'Are you ready?'_

' _Let's tear him to shreds.'_

Not holding back she darted forward. The red dragon might have been stronger and larger, but Saphira was the more agile of the two. Unsheathing Umbra and Aurora he caught Murtagh's blade and followed up with a swing of his own.

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

Arya barely managed to hold on to the wet and slippery leather strap as the horse galloped uncontrollably through the enemy ranks, sowing disarray and panic. Its dead rider hung lifelessly from the saddle, her sword still embedded in his abdomen. She barely managed to dodge a stray arrow that bored itself into the neck of the poor animal, making it stumble and crash to the ground. Arya almost ended up crushed between the ground and the massive animal, but thanks to her natural reflexes only ended up sliding over the coarse dirt, sustaining some minor injury in the process.

She lay there for a fraction of a second, looking into the moonlit sky where Eragon and his opponent battled amidst the rainclouds. The two dragons were interlocked in an intricate dance while their riders exchanged blows. It was clear which one of the riders was the better and it seemed that Eragon was only waiting for Saphira to injure the red dragon sufficiently that he could dispatch of the other rider. Though she was clearly more skilled in the air, each time she scored a hit it seemed the red dragon was only injured for a moment. Almost as if the other rider was healing him as soon as they were sustained. As the world around her came back into focus she leapt to her feet, grabbing her sword out of the dead body next to her. Arya looked around, trying to find her friends but seeing none of them.

To her relief the enemy was also scattered about thinly this far behind the front line. She thought she caught a glimpse of Illium's distinctive blue hair somewhere in the distance leaving a torrent of confusion in his wake, but was quickly drawn back to her own problems when she heard heavy footsteps approach her from behind. "We enjoyed your company so much in Gil'ead."

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

"Shouldn't you be protecting your lady friend?" Nemeya asked as she loosed arrow after arrow from horseback into the enemy archers.

"I'm sure she can take care of herself." The blue haired figure grinned back as he ran next to her galloping horse like it was naught but a calm stroll. Then again, to him it probably was. Actually, it was quite disconcerting how weak she was compared to the forces that moved across this battlefield. Now was not the time to give that much thought, however. "Careful now." His sword cleaved an arrow away from her shoulder before it had a chance to hit. She had completely missed it, obscured as it had been by the night and the rain.

"Thanks." She replied, blinking at him. "Now I don't want to be rude, but it seems like your lady friend – who is perfectly capable of protecting herself mind you – needs our help." Nemeya added having caught Arya and her foe in the corner of her eye.

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

' _He's a cheeky bastard, isn't he?'_ Saphira panted as she chased after the red tail.

' _You were the one who insisted on not killing him. I'd have blown him out of the sky ages ago.'_

' _Haha, very funny. Hoho, this is to laugh.'_ The red dragon's jaws snapped shut over the tip of her tail, making Saphira whine in pain. _'Alright, you may… help.'_

' _How much help?'_

At that moment a red talon tore its way through her wing, making Saphira cry in outrage. _'I don't care, just do something!'_ Eragon took a deep breath. _Alright. "something" coming right up_ he thought, his mind racing. He was out of sword range and his bow was out of commission. Saphira as having a hard time keeping them aloft and with Murtagh bearing down on them quickly, there was no way they could avoid fatal injury. Sorcery would do little good against a _living_ target, unless…

Without further hesitation Eragon pushed out his mental tethers into the world and, whispering the sorcerous words literally removed the air around the red dragon and his rider. Although no doubt terrible to experience, it was spectacular to see his opponent flail, gasping for air that was no longer there while they plummeted to the ground. Wings moved through nothingness as the red dragon attempted to right itself but with nothing to push against, its fall was in every way unguided. _'Don't look.'_ He advised as the sound of dragon bones breaking filled the air. Before they could suffocate he released his hold on the power.

' _That was rather… dramatic.'_ Saphira commented.

' _They'll live. Galbatorix will find a way to patch them up, but at least we won't be hearing from them for a while. You are injured.'_

' _I will live.'_

' _Perhaps, but I can feel your wing tearing with every wingbeat through our bond. You fought well, Saphira. I wish I could heal you as Murtagh can for his dragon, but…'_

' _I understand.'_

' _Do you?'_

There was a moment of silence. _'I do.'_

' _Once you found a safe location, watch through my eyes and listen through my ears. I want you with me, if not in body than in mind.'_ She conceded and, after Eragon unfolded his wings and lifted himself from the saddle, turned back to the Varden encampment. He watched her 'limp' through the air as she carefully glided back to safety while he lazily spiraled down to the broken mess of red below. Far to the east he saw something glint in the moonlight on the horizon, far away yet, but he had more pressing matters to worry about right now. The Varden actually appeared to be on the winning side, which was both surprising and would no doubt bring a huge boost to troop morale. Just as he skimmed over the sand he felt Saphira's presence grow stronger within him and he knew she'd found a place to hide.

His touchdown was almost silent and as he approached the fallen pair, he couldn't help but feel a small twitch of remorse. "Have you come… to finish the job?" A broken voice asked. Following the sound he found Murtagh, arms and legs twisted in unnatural positions.

"You know I can't. I swore it to you."

"Must have… slipped my mind as you sent us crashing down to the ground at terminal velocity."

"You are in pain, but you will live. No doubt one of the king's lackeys will scrape you up soon and set to mending your bones. I'd fix the worst of it myself, but…" Eragon thought for a moment. He didn't know how much the enemy knew about him and he would rather keep it that way. "There are still plenty of your henchmen to kill."

"You know what, I don't even blame you." Murtagh laughed until his laughter was replaced with coughing, spilling blood over the ground. "I hope you didn't have to delve too deep to pull that trick. More of my… henchmen will be here soon. Look to the west."

Eragon did just that, his eyes growing wide as he saw what approached. "Watch out for Roran or I _will_ find a way to come back on my oath." Eragon said before leaping into the air once again.

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

Arya winced as the enemy commander scored a hit across her collarbone. He was fast. Too fast for a human and much stronger. To make matters worse both his mind and body were surrounded with wards so strong that he was practically impervious to her magic. His thick, hulking armor – also enchanted – proved impenetrable. "Are you ready to give up yet?" The man laughed as he stepped closer. Where were her friends? Where were the spellcasters, Illium.

Where was Faolin?

The next swing connected to the hilt of her blade, knocking it out of her hands and sending her sprawling. With growing eyes she watched him hulk over her, preparing the final blow. Unconsciously she found her thoughts wandering not to her father or mother, nor to Faolin, but to Eragon. Her death would devastate him. She knew it. Dare she say it, the feeling was returned and not just for the sole reason he was a rider.

None of that came to pass, however. An arrow bored itself through the eye opening in his helmet. With an outraged cry the man fell backward, clutching the wooden shaft. "Like that, don't you?" Another male voice said as a streak of blue leapt into her vision, pouncing on the injured commander. With brute force Illium pried the hands off the shaft and shoved it down until the arrowhead clinked against the metal helmet on the other side. Next to him Nemeya moved into view, her bow still in hand. She reached out to Arya and pulled her back on her feet. Arya thanked her and took a moment to catch her breath. Hopefully the fighting would be over soon. Her wards were wavering, the well having run close to dry over the duration of her duel. From the looks of it, Illium was not faring much better.

"It seems we were just in time." The blue haired man smiled at her.

"Indeed you were." Arya confirmed, retrieving her blade from where it had fallen.

"Uh, guys. I don't want to interrupt your reunion, but we have a problem." Nemeya interjected.

"What kind of problem?" Illium asked.

"The huge kind." She replied, pointing west. Out of the darkness marched an honest-to-god legion of fresh Empire soldiers.

"The Varden soldiers will be exhausted by now. It is going to be a massacre." Arya commented.

"Forget about the Varden, I think they spotted us first." Sure enough, a hail of arrows was arcing high overhead, their wet tips glistening in the dim light. Arya closed her eyes, preparing for a world of pain, yet instead she only felt a rush of wind. There was the distinct sound of arrows piercing flesh, but miraculously, she remained unhurt. The miracle, however, was soon explained when she opened her eyes to see a field of white and gold in front of her. Red was beginning to seep across the flawless feather carpet where dozens of arrows had bored into it.

"Eragon, no." She said quietly, reaching out for him.

"I will live." The rider replied as he pulled his wings close to him again, the pain clearly present on his face as he did so. It was a sight to behold, Eragon's silhouette against a marching army with arrows protruding out of both his wings. "We should go before they get the chance to shoot again. Go, I will follow." The four of them darted towards friendly lines, the fresh reinforcements perhaps fifty paces behind them.

Eragon had come to the same conclusion as Arya. He could read the fear in the Varden's eyes as they grew closer and knew that to let the two armies clash was to end the rebellion before it had truly begun. Purposely falling behind a little, he stopped altogether a hundred paces before friendly lines. Once he was certain Arya, Illium and Nemeya were safe, he turned around, raised his hands and willed the earth behind him to collapse two thousand paces in either direction. His wings were useless now and he was trapped with thousands of enemies, but they would remain safe. Everyone in the immediate vicinity was knocked of their feet by the quaking including Arya. When she turned to see what had happened and her eyes met his, Eragon broke inside. He saw a number of things in them. Disbelief, anger but most of all, betrayal.

' _Eragon, what are you doing?'_ Saphira asked.

' _Buying time for a miracle to happen.'_ He replied, unsheathing Aurora and Umbra. _'They want to capture me. We are the primary reason this whole shit-show is going down right now. Think about it, I'm the perfect distraction.'_

' _You will end up killed or worse, captured.'_

' _You would tear the roof of any dungeon Galbatorix can conceive to get me out.'_

' _And don't you forget it.'_

' _Don't worry Saphira. You will not have to attempt a rescue operation tonight. The enemy might have looked west, but nobody has seen what approaches from the east yet.'_

' _Do you mean-'_

' _Let's just hope they get here in time.'_ He replied as he began to mow his way through soldier after soldier. They swarmed around him, intent on wearing him out to the point where they could carry his limp body of the battlefield. Eragon lost track of time. Perhaps he was fighting minutes, perhaps hours, but soon he found himself surrounded by heaps of corpses. His blades continued to cut though the power behind them began to diminish and he wasn't sure whether it was exertion or bloodloss. Eragon was beginning to doubt his own senses when a loud, deep war cry –definitely not human in nature - filled the air.

Behind the enemies he saw Hrothgar himself, mounted on a large Shrrg, the wolves native to the dwarven mountains. Behind him cries of elation rose from the Varden ranks. "The dwarves, the dwarves are here!"

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So there you have it. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and to see you again next time!

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Orca3553 – well, clearly you put down enough text to warrant an answer to your review, but I have no clue what to reply really xD. Personally I am more of a RaexBB groupie (Teen Titans), but well, nobody really writes anything new in there these days anymore . I'm sorry to hear this story doesn't pursue the shipping you would rather see, but you must understand that when taking such an unexpected tour with the plotline, I must give the readers something 'mainstream' to hold on to. Thanks for the time and see ya!

Watchman1 – Aaand Eragon's big boy wings have to be bandaged up again. Go me! Next chapter I'm going to spend working on ExA again and just maybe I might introduce Orik ^^. Hopefully that one won't take so long, but I explained that at the beginning of this story. I purposefully made Arya greet Eragon that way because I want to emphasize her somewhat uncertain position on where they stand so yes, it was on purpose! Angela… angela. Yes, I think I'm not going to spoiler anything about her yet. With Icarus's story becoming more and more clear, I need a new enigma to keep my readers hooked! See you!

Sebastiaan Asselbergs - Minoris me. Sex annis docti in lingua mea. Google only used a few superfluous pronouns, so it wasn't too bad. Just another one of the languages I… speak isn't the right word here. Understand maybe? This isn't _like_ the battle of the burning planes, this IS the battle of the burning planes. Sheesh. Thanks for the review!

Stubbsie8 – How do you know death is female? That might just have been the way it chose to appear. Army decimation might be a thing later, but now I need Eragon to remain flawed. As somebody else said, let's not turn him into a God/Mindless Tool! Thanks you and stay shiny!

Elemental Dragon Slayer – All those years… you just disregard them like that? You are worse than I thought! Nitpicking is good. Errors are there to be corrected. I'm afraid Eragon no longer trusts Angela behind him when he is near a cliff from now on though xs.

HomoForElmo – No! Elmo! You were so close! You were almost a human being!

Anthony – No, he is not.

Mad hatter – We are in agreement on the wings, so sleep easy tonight! Urgals and Surda will be showing up soon, but not quite yet. They will be there for the next battle/siege/what have you, though. Promise! On a side note I am going to tell you to stop spoiling the story for yourself.

Exillion – Did I fuck up somewhere? I try to keep those things out, but from time to time one of them slips through -_-'. Oh well, I guess he exists there now!

Dragon Junkie74 – Careful though, your mating cry might scare the fish away.

Chemiczen – I'm sorry to hear that. You seem to have your mind already made up, so I won't even bother, but I wish you would have come to me and said something sooner. I'm not going to rewrite 70k+ of story at this point.

Tylerlilibeth04 – In time, there will be a couple. Not yet, though.

Carnivore Does – Oh dear, another junkie! Lord what have I done to the world… Well, to learn that many, you start out by having Dutch parents who live in Germany while you are stuck on an International school where they teach French as a mandatory course (there is the first four). Then you proceed to own French so hard they tell you to go do Spanish as well and – anticipating a possible return to the Netherlands – you pick up Latin as it is mandatory to do for certain levels of education. At some point out of sheer boredom you pick up Japanese in your free time and – by extention – Chinese which makes seven living languages and one dead one. The mind is a weapon that can be trained! Out of the gutter, boy!

Praylearnwrite – Well, you will have to find a way to express it in English, because I don't speak Indonesian xs. Orc Faolin will be jealous. That's like his whole purpose in this story. I like the way the whole idea is beginning to click in your mind now. Stay shiny!

Amics – Well, as you desire, one relationship complication coming right up! How bad would you like me to make the damage? Just rate it on a scale form 1-10 xD. It's good that you point this out to me now, that way I can work on it while I write and not have to try to fix it with patchwork afterwards. Please do share your ideas, either by review or PM. I'm always interested to hear input and – as you may or may not have noticed – do listen to my readers and actively weave their ideas into the story. I look forward to hearing from you!

David727 – uh… velcroe? xD. I will come up with something and explain it in the next chapter while Arya is disrobing Erago – uh… yeah. Imma stop myself right there.

– Physics tends not to accept laughter. I also tried that once and ended up with a broken collarbone and a dislocated shoulder. It's a long story so don't ask ;p. Perhaps the word you are looking for is frivolous? I admit I don't know much about Brazillian culture, but perhaps I should go there some time to have myself… educated (how is that for mind out of the gutter). There will be fluff. Lots and lots of fluff, but I have to develop the relationship first, otherwise I will have a riot on my hands from all the other readers xD. Stay shiny (though that won't be hard where you live) and see ya 'round!

Draven32 – I hope you didn't fall asleep the next day xs. Thank you for your words of praise, they are very welcome. It's good to see a new reader join the ranks!

To all the other reviewers – From the bottom of my heart I thank you for the time and effort you pitched in to let me know you appreciate my work. Though I didn't get around to thanking each and every one of you personally (it takes up a lot of my time I could spend working on the next chapter), know that I have read and appreciated each and every one of you. Whatever you do, don't stop being awesome!


	25. Chapter 24

Well, it's been weeks again *nervously tugs collar*. To be honest life got a whole lot busier than expected. With accelerated examinations in the third week of college and numerous issues with government administration I had my hands full from dawn till dusk and I'm very sorry to admit it came between me and writing more often than it did not. The fault – as usual – is all mine. Still I want to thank you all for hanging in there with me.

I'm not even going to make promises anymore on when the next chapter will be out. Just know that I'm not dead. If I ever plan on stopping, which I don't, I will let you guys know in an update. If you don't hear anything just know deep inside your heart I'm working as hard as I can to get things out to you. Anyways, enough with the wait, enjoy the chapter!

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Knuckles turned a bleak white as they clenched the crimson sheets underneath him. Not too long ago they had been white, but that was before she had forced him to lie down on it and gone to work pulling all the arrows from his wings. In hindsight it was stupid how possessive she was of him and it might not have been the best idea to send Angela away when she had offered her services. She knew very little of the anatomy of wings and could do little but clean the wounds and dress them to the best of her abilities. The fact that she was doing it by dim candlelight was not helping. It was not something she was familiar with as she usually resorted to magic to remedy these types of ailments. Now that she was sitting in his tent straddling his waist however, it was too late to go back on her decision.

Although the mysterious white cloak that now lay beside the nightstand had shielded his back and legs from harm, his wings had suffered the full brunt. His blood welled up between her fingers as she worked a particularly nasty gash and he whimpered underneath her. She knew it must have been bad because he usually appeared virtually impervious to pain. _'So how long are you going to put this off?'_ Firnen asked.

Her eyes drifted to the small pile of bloodied and used arrows that had formed next to the cot that already reached up to her knees. _'I think it's hardly fair to assault him when he is like this.'_

' _Quite the contrary. He is weak now, his guard is down. If you want an honest answer now is the time to strike.'_

' _That's just cold.'_ She replied, but was still inclined to agree with her dragon. She washed out another wound in silence. "Why did you do it?"

It had hardly been a whisper but he'd caught it. "I would catch an arrow for you any day." Eragon replied evasively knowing full well that was not what she was referring to. In reply she was a lot less gentle when she pulled out the next arrow, causing him to jerk underneath her.

"You could have died." She said accusingly.

"I knew the Dwarves were almost upon us. Unlike you I am not yet ready to leave this place."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Although she managed to keep her voice level, she felt rage bubble to the surface inside her.

"Don't think I didn't see the look on your face. You were prepared to die without putting up the barest hint of a fight. You were just standing there with your arms stretched out waiting for it to happen. You know what a normal person does? They avert their eyes, curl up into a ball or what have you. At least that's what Illium and Nemeya were doing!" Eragon replied angrily as she yanked out another arrow.

"At least you could still get to me. You literally put a chasm between us. They had to build bridges to retrieve the fallen from the battlefield, you know?" Arya hissed trying to emphasize her point.

Eragon twisted underneath her, throwing her off balance as if it were nothing until she was sitting in his lap, staring right into his eyes. His hands were clasped around her upper arms, forcing her to remain where she was. "What is it that you want from me Arya? Would you like me to apologize? Should I sing you a thousand ballads or should I just walk out of your life and let you find your happiness with Faolin?"

The storm that had been brewing between them finally burst forth in all its violence. "Faolin has nothing to do with this! Stop bringing him into it!" She replied, finally losing her cool.

"Bullshit! He has everything to do with this!" Eragon yelled, making Arya cower in front of him from the sheer overbearingness his posture and voice held. She felt Firnen pull away from her until he was nothing but a faint light on a distant horizon, no doubt unwilling to get caught up in whatever unspoken rule existed in the male world for scenarios like these.

"From the moment we met I have been nothing but forward with you! But you? No, you have tiptoed back and forth. Since you appear to have a hard time figuring it out for yourself, I will _tell_ you why you feel the way you do." Eragon continued his narrative in her native language. "The rational part of you has seen Faolin for what he is. How small and insignificant in comparison to the many others you have met over your life. Yet he was one of the few who was there during your childhood especially when your mother cast you out."

"How did you know-"

"You will let me finish! After what he did for you, you feel like you are somehow indebted to him. You allow that feeling to obscure the way he abandons you when there is _real_ trouble, at some point you had even wished it was Glenwing instead that had crawled out of the darkness with you. Then you met me, an unknown factor that though benevolent in nature, was a blade that cut on two sides and you chose to _fear_ me." Arya averted her eyes in shame for it was true.

"It was not until I sacrificed one twenty-fifth of what I am and sprouted wings for you that you now felt indebted to me as well even though I have told you a thousand times you owe me _nothing_ just as you owe nothing to Faolin. Now your guilt fights an internal war between him and me. Just like you came for me two days ago, then treated me as a cold stranger yesterday! I may hate his guts and find him nothing but a worthless coward, but he – just as I – did everything out of volition, not because we expected anything in return. You not angry at me because I chose to potentially sacrifice myself, you are angry because I value your life more than my own! Arya, look at me."

"Look at me!" He yelled, shaking her until her green eyes snapped to his violet and azure ones, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. "This ends here and now. Either free yourself from your chains and live or wallow in your self-imposed sense of guilt, but don't tear what little sense of self I still have left in me apart with your indecision." The last part sounded more like a plea than anything else and it was reflected in his eyes as Arya stared into them. He'd read her like an open book even when she had failed to recognize what was happening herself and now it was like a new sun was rising on the horizon.

A thousand thoughts shifted through her mind as she hung her head in submission. It was a way nobody – not even her parents - had seen her before ever. He had reduced her to nothing but the scared sixteen year old girl watching her father's body being carried to the grave in less than three minutes. She sat there for minutes, indecisiveness racking through her. Arya was keenly aware that her next words would forever change her life as well as his. Witnessing the single tear that rolled down his cheek she gathered what little sense of self she still had about her. "I- I should go." She whispered, rushing out of the tent.

Eragon felt like breaking something at that very moment as he watched her back retreat into the ocean of tents. Instead he sat down on his cot, reached over his shoulder and began to tear arrow after arrow from his body, relishing in the pain that washed over his senses. Quietly he muttered to himself about his own stupidity as he slowly painted the white canvas around him red. _'Oh, little one.'_ Saphira murmured in empathy.

' _Don't even try.'_ Eragon replied evenly.

' _You are hurting yourself.'_ She protested. The arrow he was holding splintered in his hands.

' _Enough.'_ He said, reaching within himself and calling upon Icarus's sorcery to remove the arrows all at once by force. With a loud cracking noise every last arrow still stuck in his body disintegrated sending splinters everywhere. It scratched up his face, arms and legs pretty good but at least the worst part was over with. Careful to keep them free of blood he retrieved fresh clothes. _'I am going to bathe.'_

He made it a point not to be seen, moving around the camp with a wide berth until he stumbled into the clearing he'd occupied with Arya only hours earlier. Pulling the battle-worn clothes and armor from his torso, he stumbled into the cold water. He hissed in pain as the lake lapped at his wounds causing a fine red mist to spread around him. With effort he rolled over and floated on his back, using his wings for buoyancy. To his great annoyance he saw that instead of regenerating real feathers, his body was producing very something very… fluffy. _Great, now I'm turning into a baby chick too._

Today was just not his day.

"You still in the land of the living?" He heard a voice shout from the shoreline. Eragon sighed but raised an arm out of the water and waved it back and forth. Of course it would be Illium who found him now. "Alright, just checking." There was the rustling of clothes and some splashing until Illiums voice appeared far closer than it had been before. "If it makes you feel any better you look quite dramatic floating in a cloud of your own blood."

"I hope to god you are still wearing your briefs lest I will submerge you in a private world of pain." Eragon replied, not at all in the mood for jesting.

"You're grumpier than usual." The blue haired elf replied, the grin on his face _almost_ audible.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah, I see. It's about Arya."

"What cued you in?"

"Maybe it was the way she ran straight into Faolin's arms, a somewhat distressed look on her face."

"So she's made her choice." Eragon murmured to himself. Having come to that conclusion some time ago it didn't sting so much as it disappointed him.

"Choice about what?" Illium pried.

The winged rider was silent for a few moments, deliberating what to tell him. "I told her a truth she was not yet ready to hear." Was his eventual conclusion. "Arya," he added, righting himself in the water so he could look Illium in the eyes, "isn't ready to look in the mirror. To see her perception of self for what it truly is. I suppose it's only logical she reacts by finding a known safe spot."

"You seem awfully calm about it."

"What can I say. I screwed up and will pay the price for it. There is no use getting worked up over it at this point. Do you know where I can find Nemeya? I need her."

"What for?" Illium asked in an uncharacteristic display of intrusive curiosity.

"I'll need to formally welcome Hrothgar and his army. She is technically in my service so this is the perfect opportunity to extend her network. Perhaps pick a new colleague while we are at it."

"Shouldn't you be bringing me along as well then?"

"Your status is not yet official. Until I have spoken to Islanzadí you are bound to her and – please don't take this the wrong way – I would rather not start a diplomatic cold war over you."

"Okay point taken. Last I saw her she was feeding the horses."

Leisurely Eragon paddled his way back to shore where he dried himself off, gave his wings a few shakes to dislodge the water caught in between the feathers and pulled on clean clothes. The cuts on his arm had faded into angry red lines, still somewhat sensitive to the touch but they would fade by nightfall. Judging it was likely not a good play to strain his wings just yet he set out towards the stables on foot. On the way to the stables he walked by Angela's tent and – after a short deliberation period – decided it was better to be safe than sorry and knocked.

A few moments later her head popped out of the tent to see who dared disturb her peace. "Oh it's you." She said, neither surprised nor apparently happy to see him.

"May I come in for a moment?" He replied, doing his utmost best to keep his cool.

Angela clearly though for a few moments but then nodded. "Alright." She maneuvered to the side to allow him passage and gestured for him to take a seat. When he'd done so she asked: "so, why did you wish to see me?"

In reply Eragon extended one of his wings. Something on Angela's face changed as it was now blindingly obvious she was trying to contain her laughter. "I look like a damned duck." He complained. Angela – on the verge of losing her composure – turned away from him. "It's not funny! They will shed, won't they?"

"Do they hinder flight?" She asked, her voice still wavering.

"I haven't tried yet. I figured that after the beating they took I should give them time to heal."

Angela nodded in agreement, finally appearing to have gotten a grip on it. "Your body isn't just regenerating skin and feathers right now as it would with a scrape. Your wing is literally regrowing from the inside out. Think of it like sensitive skin that forms over a cut before it becomes the tough like it was before. You will shed your down in a few days. Do save it for me please, I would very much like to fill my pillow with it."

Eragon grumbled something indignant as he marched out of the tent. The stables weren't far and sure enough Nemeya was just about done brushing her horse. He patiently leaned against one of the support beams, waiting for her to finish while she was blissfully unaware of his presence. Only once she had diligently put away the brush and the bucket of water he made his presence known by scraping his throat. Her reaction was rather amusing to watch as she first tensed, then spun around and almost ricocheted when she saw who was standing there. "What's with the jump-scare?" She asked, catching her breath.

"You seemed rather indulged. I didn't want to interrupt. You and I have an errand to run so go put on some better clothes and meet me outside my tent. Don't be long." His knuckles rapped against the wooden support as he turned and left Nemeya to her own devices.

Not much later he was trekking through the camp with her by his side. They were northbound where the Dwarves had set up a camp of their own. The trip in and off itself wasn't too eventful until he saw Arya in the distance. Without missing a beat he turned a sharp left. "Eragon, what are you doing? The Dwarven camp is that way." Nemeya complained as her rapid steps tried to catch up to his heavier and longer ones.

"And I felt like taking a detour. You can carry on without me if you'd like." It was a dare more than a suggestion. They both knew it would look very stupid if she arrived without him. "So what do you think of Illium? He might be your colleague soon."

Nemeya turned her head away from him. "He's alright."

"That's it? You two have seemed awfully… close since you first met. Hell he even followed you into enemy lines." He saw the face she made. "Don't think I wouldn't notice _that_ little stunt of yours from two-thousand paces above the battlefield." Eragon pressed. "And Illium is really hard to miss if you catch my drift."

"Alright, alright. Point taken." She sighed. "What do you plan to do with him?"

"Stop trying to change the subject." ' _So protective,'_ Eragon thought.

She fidgeted a little. "I think he has a charming personality and the capacity for leadership."

"But?"

Nemeya sought the words. "I don't think they will ever allow him to grow into the position. He just seems too…"

"Shy?"

"For lack of a better word, yes."

Eragon nodded, having come to the same conclusion himself. Tricking the elf into changing his ways would prove tricky no doubt. The remainder of the way to the Dwarven camp was spent in silence. He received the expected stares and gasps as they walked through the sea of tents, the dwarves not yet aware of his… transformation. The difference between this place and the Varden's camp was like day and night. Where their tents were withered, often times infested with a wide variety of molds, the Dwarven tents stood proud and tall untested as they were. No doubt someone had ran ahead, for they were immediately allowed to pass upon reaching the center. Hrothgar's tent was not what Eragon expected it to be. The dwarves had carried an honest-to-god miniature replica of Tronjheim's throne room with them – stone cathedra included. It was empty however, its rightful owner busy with a few of his underlings. As soon as he saw Eragon from the corner of his eye, he shooed them away and extended his arms in greeting. "Eragon, it is good to see you!"

"King Hrothgar." Eragon replied warmly, bowing slightly. Enough to appear graceful but not subservient. Nemeya meanwhile knelt fully as protocol dictated. "I came to formally welcome you and thank you for the assistance you provided in rendering the enemy advances a failure. Your arrival could not have been timelier. I apologize for Saphira's absence, she is still recovering."

"I'm surprised you are not recovering yourself after the beating you took. You didn't exactly look in good shape the last time we saw one another. Although I must admit the wings were a bit of a surprise, even for me. Are they real?"

In reply Eragon extended his left and most unhurt wing. "They lack their usual splendor today I'm afraid. The brown feathers are a result of the healing process and I have been told they will shed in a few days."

"Do I want to know _why_ you have wings now?"

"No, you don't. This is not the time nor the place for such a story. If we pull through this war in one piece maybe I shall tell you one day over a pint of fine ale." Eragon ghosted his fingers over Nemeya's shoulder, gesturing for her to rise. She stood before the king, dressed in the combat leathers he'd gifted to her.

"I brought my protégé. You may have met her before."

"Yes…" Hrothgar said pensively. "Nemeya, am I right?" She nodded furiously, flattered the king had remembered her name. "Though last time I heard about you, you had a different occupation."

"Lord Eragon has brought me a long way since then." She replied, keeping her eyes trained on the ground. Somebody did their utmost best to remain unheard as he shuffled up behind them. Dwarves, however, were notoriously bad at hiding themselves – this one was no exception. For pretense's sake Eragon pretended not to notice him until he cleared his throat.

"One of the prisoners attempted an escape and wounded a guard."

"So? Put him back in his cell and post a second guard."

"Grimsborith Vermund is calling for a summary execution."

Hrothgar sighed, rubbing his temples. "Vermund does this from time to time." He said to Eragon and Nemeya. "Idiocy always occurs at the most inopportune moments, but I'm afraid I must deal with this personally before it gets out of hand. My apologies." He turned to the other dwarf. "Orik, please accommodate our guests and show them out when they are ready to leave. In a flurry of dwarven fury Hrothgar stormed out of the tent.

Eragon turned to face the dwarf the king had introduced as Orik. There was nothing too unusual about him, though he looked back at him without the usual fear or contempt he saw in others. His back was straight and regal, clearly not awed or overwhelmed by the situation. Upon closer inspection, he actually bore a few resemblances to Hrothgar, leading Eragon to the conclusion the dwarf in front of him was likely royalty.

"Hrothgar is my adoptive father, my uncle by blood. Most never guess it on first glance, though." _Had he spoken that final bit out loud?_ Eragon wondered.

"What happened to your real parents?" Eragon asked, the somewhat rude question having slipped from his tongue before he was able to catch it.

"My father, Thrifk, and my mother who was sister to Hrothgar both died of the pox when I was but a babe. Hrothgar took me into his care and – after realizing he would die without child – subsequently named me as his heir."

"Apologies, I should not have asked."

"None are needed." The dwarf shrugged. "People often do not care to ask and I never knew my parents. Hrothgar is my father in every sense." It was quiet for a few moments until Orik continued. "It was quite the spectacle to see you on the battlefield. Although I have never witnessed one in action, the grace of your swings must rival those of the elves."

"According to some I have actually already surpassed them. Most of them anyways."

"But you are not an elf." Orik stated.

"Obviously." Eragon replied, subtly moving the wings arcing over his shoulders.

"So who taught you?"

A pang of regret and guilt. "Someone very wise and very old who is no longer with us today."

"Were those his blades? They are unlike any I have ever seen."

"In a sense they were, although they were once given to him just as they were to me. Would you like to see?" Orik nodded. With a simple movement Eragon unsheathed his blades and held them out.

"Remarkable craftsmanship. Unlike any I have ever seen."

"You are a blacksmith?"

"I am a member of the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, the clan of smiths and descendants of Korgan who personally learned the craft from an ancient elf. I know good smithing when I see it and quite frankly these blades are out of this world."

 _You don't know the half of it._ Eragon thought, taking back the blades and sliding them into their sheaths again. "Who knows. Their history has been lost in time so I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to." Eragon lied through his teeth.

"Regrettable." Orik remarked.

"I have not been in Tronjheim for quite some time, how have your people handled the aftermath of the battle?" Eragon asked. The conversation quickly devolved into meaningless banter that lasted perhaps an hour. After all was said and done Eragon escorted Nemeya back to her tent and then proceeded to his own.

Sitting outside was the _last_ person he wanted to see right now. Acting more on base instinct than rational thought he recoiled, spreading his wings and forcing the currents to take him aloft. By the time the weakened muscles gave out he was a good ten leagues away from the camp, right in the epicenter of the battlefield. Although it had barely been a day, the corpses had already begun to decay under the unrelenting sun, turning to food for the critters and crawlers of the inhospitable desert. Nobody had bothered to bury them – the manpower desperately needed to save the living.

' _Are you alright?'_

' _No. That damned elf now insists on haunting me wherever I go.'_

' _Perhaps you should listen to what she has to say.'_ Saphira tried.

' _She told me everything she had to when she ran away last night.'_ Saphira remained silent. It was the truth, no matter how hard they both wished it were different. Opting to take her advice to heart, however, he remained there. It had been a long day and Eragon really wasn't in the mood to deal with this particular wound just yet. But perhaps it was best not to allow it to fester and instead deal with it now. Not much later he heard rapid, light footsteps catch up to him. They came to a dwindling halt behind him.

"It's only by Saphira's grace you have this opportunity, so speak quickly." Eragon said, his voice surprisingly calm and even.

"You are angry." She stated in the ancient language.

"Frustrated with myself." He corrected her. "But there is nothing you can do about that."

"I did not mean to hurt… whatever it is between us. There must be a way to make amends"

"I think you have done quite enough. I told you to make a choice you were not ready to make and you made it. No blame befalls you for the way you feel towards me or others. Just allow me some time to process it as well."

"But I don't know if that choice was the right one. You force me to face things I have never faced before. Please understand."

"Be that as it may, you made your intentions very clear when you ran straight from me and into _his_ arms."

"That was a private moment." Arya replied through clenched teeth.

"You are doing it again, Arya. Running back and forth between me and him. The only thing I have not figured out yet is why you came back to me this time."

"Because I couldn't look him in the eye anymore because of you, Eragon! I came here because I don't know what to do!"

Something very dark and evil snapped inside him at that moment. "Would you like me to tell you what to do? Is that truly all I am good for? A sounding board and emotional punching bag for your damaged self? Then listen to my words and listen closely." His voice twisted, turning into the lethal weapon Eragon knew it could be. "You, Arya Dröttningu, daughter of Islanzadí, will run back to your tent where you will remain in pensive though until you have thought of a way to sort out this glorious mess you have created and you will refrain from speaking to me until you have done so."

Realizing what he had done Eragon watched in horror as her normally bright eyes turned dull and distant. Instantly he felt the arcid taste of regret well up from his stomach and he wished with all his being he could undo what he'd just done. He was just about ready to die as he watched her drone off towards the camp. Today was _not_ his day.

* * *

 _~I wonder how that's gonna pan out between Faolin and Eragon~_

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Orca3553 - I feel as though the length of your review warrants something akin to a reply, but it's 5 a.m. and I can't think of anything. So I guess I will just say thank you in person xs.

– I'm probably too white (and male and cis and privileged) to be BR, but I appreciate the sentiment. I don't play RPGs though, I hope that doesn't deduct from my BR-ness too much. If ya wanna play the guessing game, good luck. Angela is not the embodiment of time, but nice try. See ya next time!

Draven32 – Only going forward and things are getting worse ;).

Rasmussemees – of course I'm looking out to your review especially, just as with all the others who review on a regular basis. It's too bad we lost Maezan somewhere along the road :\\.

GaaraSandNiN – ikr. Those people should go back to wattpad. I hope my story didn't cost you too much sleep!

Dragon Junkie74 – Veep.

Tamerlorde85 – But confusion is what we live for!

Guest – I'm gonna presume this row of reviews is from the same person, if they are not my apologies. No, Eragon is not half-dragon. No, Eragon is not reaper from overwatch. Yes, it's unfinished. If it _were_ finished, it would have the 'story completed' tag.

Tylerlilibeth04 – As far as I know they didn't.

To the rest of you – There it is, the massively tuned down version of replying to reviews. I hope it wasn't _too_ short, but doing it this way literally shaved about an hour off the process of preparing a chapter for you guys. Know that – as always – I have read, considered and appreciated all the reviews that were posted and that I am very grateful for them. Please don't stop because I didn't reply to you in person, y'all are awesome! Good day to you all and stay shiny.


	26. Chapter 25

Hello everyone, it's been a while. I won't stand in between you and the continuation any longer than I have to, so for those of you who are curious as to why it took so long, there is a small bit at the end of this chapter explaining why. Enjoy!

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Small note: If this chapter feels a little different or weird, please keep in mind that I have not touched this work in over half a year. After over 100.000 words i felt like it was finally time for this chapter to happen so you can hate all you want but I'm not taking it back. I will start responding to reviews again in the next chapter!

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He sighed. _'I really don't want to do this'_

' _You are the one who decided to violate her mind, not me.'_ His dragon responded

' _There is no need to rub it in.'_

' _I thought you figured by now that that's pretty much my job description.'_

Eragon gathered all his dignity about him, about to do the hardest thing he had ever done in his life. Three well placed raps on the tent post to his left later he was inside the tent. With clenched teeth he dropped the large brown bag on the floor at her feet. With a curious look she took the leather bindings and undid them. "Oh, Eragon-"

"I didn't have to, I know. But I need your help and technically this puts you in my debt."

"You could have just asked. I really was kidding when I asked you to save all your down."

"Perhaps, but the favor I have to ask is rather big so I decided I might as well start off by getting on your good side."

Angela grinned. "You realize I'm never going to let you live this one down, right?"

"You have no idea." Eragon muttered.

There was a brief moment where Angela tried to mend her composure. Eventually she just gave up and allowed the half mocking grin to remain plastered to her face. "So what is it you needed my help with?"

"I made a mistake. A very, _very_ big mistake."

The woman across him nodded sagely. "And it wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain she-elf now would it?"

Eragon's face contorted a little before he formulated the very well contemplated answer "maybe."

"I figured as much. Do I get to know the nature of the problem?"

Eragon's face turned to stone. "I just handed you my dignity, you are going nowhere _near_ my ego."

Angela pouted. "You're no fun. I suppose I should be thankful for what is given freely. Tell me what you did and why you want my help."

"What I tell you next will not leave this tent without my explicit permission."

Angela huffed. "A bold request." When Eragon remained unmoved at her undignified attitude she sighed. "Very well, my lips are sealed."

He handed over a scrap piece of paper with notes scribbled hastily onto it. "I need you to make this potion."

Hesitantly Angela took it and read down the list. With each passing ingredient her eyes grew wider and wider. "Eragon, are you even aware of what this is?"

"Bitterly so Angela."

For the first time in his life it seemed the herbalist didn't know what to say. "I- even if I wanted to, some of the ingredients here have not been seen in centuries. I might be able to replace Erynweed and Mournrose with modern counterparts, but-"

Eragon dropped a second bag at her feet. "Everything you need is in there, except for the Sandclovers, but those grow in plenty on the south side of this camp."

"How did you get all this?"

"A blood sacrifice, an ancient relic and a very large pile of decomposing bodies." He replied without hesitation.

"You found a way to contact Icarus, even in death. He put you up to this"

Eragon briefly glanced away. "Not that it is relevant, but yes there is a way. I would, however, venture to say that it was me who put Icarus up to it rather than the other way around. Will you make the potion for me?"

"I would be handing you a knife with no hilt and asking you to juggle with it."

"Will you make the potion?"

Angela almost looked pained. "At least tell me why."

Eragon paced the length of the tent before sitting down on one of the chairs in Angela's tent. "I have moved heaven and earth for that woman once and I will have to do it again. I… broke something deep inside of her. Something that cannot be mended through magic or salves. I have exhausted every thought, every option, every-" he stopped before he strayed too far from topic. "What I'm trying to say is that there is only one way. This way. And it's my responsibility to right my wrongs. Please help me Angela."

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[] Two weeks earlier []_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

Eragon's wing still ached from the wound he had sustained. It was getting better by the day yet he couldn't mind rubbing it absentmindedly as he looked around the damp, dark cave they would be doing their dirty business in.

' _Are you sure about this?'_ Saphira asked, her large blue eye blinking slowly as it hovered in front of his face.

' _It's not like I have much of a choice.'_

' _You would burden your conscience with one thing to absolve yourself of another?'_

Not wasting another moment he forcibly shoved the knife through his prisoner's spine, just below the base of his skull. _'Apparently I am.'_ He had carefully selected his victim. The man had been a rapist, plunderer and murderer before conscripting into Galbaorix's army, but that made the deed none less vile. _'Now I really hope this works because I am going to be mildly aggravated if it didn't.'_

"Crude, but effective."

After Icarus had done it hundreds of times, the sudden appearance of the woman with black and white hair behind him no longer startled him as much as it did anybody else. "I came to hitch a ride. I need to speak with Icarus. Has he recovered sufficiently?"

"Perhaps. We will go and see."

Bright lights followed by a warping encapsulated him. Then he was on a windy, grey beach at the end of the universe. "Just walk into the water when you are ready to leave and try not to get yourself killed or worse, trapped." Then she was gone.

It almost sounded strange when he thought it, but he was beginning to get used to the mannerisms of the ancients. Gathering his wits about him he took a deep breath and began strolling down the beach looking for any sign of his former mentor.

Eragon walked for perhaps an hour until he saw a figure in the distance. It took him another fifteen minutes to close the distance. Icarus stood silently gazing into the distance looking the same as always. His long black wings he usually held so tightly to his back were loose and the tips dragged in the sand as if he had admitted defeat. "Welcome to my prison Eragon. What can I do for you?" was the evenly voiced question.

Eragon stood beside him, his own white wing overlapping the black one slightly. "I made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake and I have no idea how to fix it. You are the last one I can turn to for help."

"Well, it's not like I have anything better to do since you have stranded me here. Tell me what you did."

"Icarus it was not like I had a choice. The alternative was spiritual oblivion."

The other man sighed. "I know my sister can be very persuasive. She always got her way even when we were younger. I do not blame you for her actions I just-" he struggled for words but found none. "Just tell me what it is you came for."

"I lost control."

"Be more specific. There is so much power in you 'losing control' can entail anything from breaking a cup to annihilating a small city."

"I used your 'gift' on somebody innocent." Eragon replied, adding a slight amount of power to the words to eradicate any doubt that might ever have been there.

"Let me guess, your elf woman?" Icarus inquired.

Eragon wondered if it was really that obvious. "I'm afraid so. I told her to go back to her tent and stay there until she had made up her mind about something. She has not been seen the three weeks since."

Icarus remained silent for a while. "Anything else?"

"I did not go through all the trouble to just lose her like this. There must be something that can be done."

"That is entirely dependent on how far you are willing to go."

"I already killed a man to get here. Might as well lay it on me."

Icarus turned to face him. "There is no way to 'fix' what you did. The only way to undo your curse is to literally remove the memory from her mind."

"We can get one of the mages to do that." Eragon suggested hopefully.

The older man smiled a wry smile. "It's not that easy. Merely suppressing or erasing it doesn't suffice. You need to cut it out with a proverbial knife. Unfortunately any knife – including this one – leaves wounds. To prevent her mind from collapsing on itself you will need to substitute different memories into the hole you leave behind. In essence, you would need to swap her memories for another's."

" _All_ memories?" Eragon asked, abhorred.

"Just the past three weeks or so should suffice, but there will be no way to retrieve them and you must never _never_ let her look into the mind of whoever holds her memories lest you risk relapsing her."

Eragon sank down to the sand, moving his hand through his hair. "I don't suppose you know of a way to do something like that?"

"I do. You will have to call on the herbalist to aid you for you cannot prepare the decoction yourself. You will also need a number of items which are very hard to come by these days." Icarus clenched his jaw before looking up towards the sky. "Sister! I know you can hear me!" The rustling of cloth behind them was the only sign that death had arrived. He then turned to face Eragon again. "Go now. I will make sure you have everything you need when you wake."

Eragon hesitated. "Icarus-"

"Go." He said firmly, pointing towards the water that stretched as far as the eye could see. As he retreated Eragon faintly heard Icarus start a hushed conversation in a language he didn't recognize. The tones were melodic and flowing and the last thing he heard before he found himself back on the cold, dark ground in the secluded cave where he'd been earlier.

' _I took the liberty of removing the body before he bled all over you.'_ Saphira, who was lounging quietly in a corner, informed him.

' _How long was I out?'_ He asked as he scrambled to his feet.

' _Most of the day. Did you find what you were looking for?'_

' _Unfortunately I did.'_

Eragon looked around the cave, searching for what Icarus had promised. At first he saw nothing but then his eye caught on a small, folded note that hadn't been there before. Carefully he reached down and picked it up.

" _Go to the mass grave south of the encampment. You will find seven herbs there – you will know them when you see them. Take them to the herbalist._ "

Below the lines an elaborate writing of lines and dots filled the paper. Undoubtedly some message for Angela. _'Come, we must go south. I will tell you of what I plan to do on the way.'_

 _[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_/\\_[]_

Eragon studied the curious vialed concoction Angela had reluctantly handed him an hour earlier as he approached the small elven enclave to the west of the encampment. As he approached he got a lot of unfriendly looks. He was not surprised nor offended by them. He deserved their contempt after all. Faolin was the only one brave enough to actually speak up. "I think you have done enough damage." He said in the ancient tongue, blocking Eragon's path.

"That's why I am here – to undo the damage." He replied in kind. Faolin gave him a pensive look. He knew Eragon wasn't lying for he too had spoken in the ancient language and yet seemed reluctant to let him pass.

"You will pay for what you did, shadeslayer." He muttered before stepping aside.

' _That's exactly what I'm about to do.'_ He thought as he pressed forward. He didn't even bother trying to knock. Arya couldn't reply to him after all. After a brief pause he pushed aside the flap and slipped inside her tent. The princess was asleep. A curious sight for this time of day but there was no way of telling what three weeks of isolation had done to her.

' _She is going to hate me for doing this, isn't she?'_

Saphira's mind was a comforting warmth against his own. _'Who knows how she will react. However, angry is a very real possibility indeed.'_

' _Well, at least then she can be angry at me outside the confines of her tent.'_ Eragon surmised.

Gently he turned Arya onto her back, doing his utmost best not to rouse her from her waking dream. Uncorking the bottle Eragon spread some onto his thumb. First he drew a line across her forehead and then proceeded to do the same thing to himself. Nothing could have prepared him for what came next. It was as if their minds had melded and become one. Focusing himself like Oromis had taught him he set out to find a very specific memory in the flood of noise that was crashing into his skull.

Eragon searched for a time that could have been minutes or hours. It was hard to tell as his mind was continuously being battered and bruised. He would be having one glorious headache after this. Finally he found what he was looking for and excised the infected memory, swapping it with his own and barely making it to the bushes some fifty paces away before passing out.

 _In his fever dreams he saw what Arya had experienced. Felt the pain as she stared at the roof of her tent hour after hour. He heard Faolin calling for her and felt her torn between the desire to be consoled and the wish never to lay eyes on him ever again. She had realized he had been right. Faolin was holding her back and even if Eragon had failed to word it more diplomatically it didn't alter the fundamental truth. But he hated her now. He would never accept her anymore and that meant she would never leave the confines of her tent. A fitting form of penance perhaps for being blind so long._

It took four days for Eragon to awaken from his delirium again. Saphira was both happy and angry. _'Contain yourself in the future. I'm growing tired of watching you torture yourself like this.'_ She scolded him, but the underlying affection was clear. It was strange, remembering the past three weeks from another perspective. Eragon had no clue what he had done during that time, where he had been, who he had spoken to. In reply Saphira filled in the biggest gaps and promised to show him more later when his aching head began to throb.

' _How is Arya?'_ he asked, hoping his efforts had not been in vain.

' _Reclusive, but she appears to be free once again.'_

Eragon released a breath he hadn't even been aware he had been holding. _'If it has indeed been five days I should go take a bath.'_

Saphira extended her long neck to curl around her rider. _'It is good to have you back again.'_ A brief pause. _'But you are right. You smell horrible.'_

' _Thank you so very much. That is exactly what I needed to hear.'_ Eragon grumbled before shuffling out of his tent. His wings dragged behind him as he meandered towards the lake causing the tips to turn from white to grey.

"Mind if I join you?"

"If you promise not to talk too much; I have a bit of a headache." The blue haired elf fell into step next to him.

"I hear our princess made a miraculous recovery."

Eragon nodded. "Something of the sort."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I mean I only had to violate like every major principle I hold dear to do it. No biggie." From the tone of Eragon's voice Illium was able to derive this was not the topic of conversation to be pursued. Luckily it was Eragon who saved him. "I spoke to Islanzadi about a week ago."

"Really now, what did she have to say?"

"Well, it cost me an arm and a leg but you officially answer to me now."

"Sir yes sir!" Illium said.

"Don't even joke like that. You will have to return there to train your replacement and I would suggest you leave at your earliest convenience. Now that preparations are complete and the wounded have mostly recovered Brom plans to march the Varden in less than a week."

"I could leave by dusk today." Illium mused.

"Please see me before you go. If you are going to Du Weldenvarden you might as well take Islanzadi's payment with you. I expect you back with us within the month."

The elf nodded. "Very well, I shall leave you then to go and pack my belongings. Also Arya was looking for you."

"Yeah, I think she will be angry with me. Perhaps it's best to first let her cool off a bit. Besides, my dragon told me I stink so I should probably wash myself before doing anything else. Safe journey Illium."

"Angry is not the word I'd use to describe it, but it's up to you." _'Yeah, livid is more like it'_ Eragon thought. But Illium wasn't done speaking yet: "And Eragon…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"Don't think I will go any easier on you just because you said that. There is a war to be won and all you've done is moved yourself closer to line of fire. But I suppose you are welcome." Eragon said, nodding to his new subordinate. Briefly he contemplated the need for a better team than 'subordinate', but he would discuss it with both Nemeya and Illium when the latter returned from his journey.

When he was sure Illium was gone he resumed his track to the water only to find Nemeya already floating around in it. Eragon really wanted that bath, but he would not violate another's privacy to do so. But before he had the chance to turn back Nemeya called him back. "Feel free to join me."

Eragon turned around again to see her standing up and face him without any attempt to maintain her modesty. Rivulets of water accentuated the very feminine curves of her body. "I really don't think that's appropriate." He suggested.

"Your heart already belongs to another. I highly doubt I could convince you to do anything inappropriate even if I tried."

Eragon sighed. "That is a bold presumption."

"That I couldn't convince you?"

"No, you were right on that account, but I highly doubt I still have a heart."

Nemeya looked at him for a moment. "You are being hard on yourself. Now are you going to join me or do you plan on turning that awful smell into a weapon?" Eragon closed his eyes for a moment and stripped down. He dropped his blades on top of the pile of fabric. His wings moved to cover his nudity before walking into the water. It took his body a moment to adjust to the cold. Before he could set to work, however, he felt soft hands touch his shoulders. "Relax." She whispered into his ear, kneading down his sore back muscles.

It almost felt like he was back in Farthen Dur.

"You should call me more often. You have so many knots in your shoulders that it makes me wonder how you can still move those arms."

"You learn to ignore the pain eventually." He replied, allowing himself to be vulnerable in her presence. The past few weeks had really changed his protégé, so Eragon noticed. "How are your men? Have they recovered?"

"Most of them didn't survive the battle. The few that are left are too busy mourning their lost comrades to look after themselves." She replied ruefully.

"It's only natural. Learn from your mistakes. I will talk to those you have left and ensure you receive a full contingent again. Next time more will live and more yet again the time after that. You have heart and that is all you need. The rest is just training a skill like any other."

They briefly talked over the details of the battle, Eragon giving her a few pointers and suggestions on how to improve both her personal and commanding performance. "How do you know all this?" She asked.

"I spent hour upon grueling hour locked in my mind dealing with these kinds of issues. Though it almost pains me to admit it, those lessons have saved my life and the lives of many others on countless occasions. Unfortunately you don't have the luxury of a controlled learning environment which means you have to do it out here, for real. All I can do is help you and suggest you learn quickly."

She smiled wryly. "I will try my best." She briefly paused. "Now that you are more or less clean, I have a suggestion of my own to make."

Eragon raised a brow. "I'm intrigued. Please do continue."

"Please go and see Arya. She's been searching for you since you woke and it's been driving her mad."

"She will rip my throat out because of what I did."

Nemeya hovered closer, folding her hands around Eragon's head. Gently, as a mother would, she pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "There is more good in you than you give yourself credit for. Trust that others see that as well. Especially those with more than a century of experience beneath their belt." Releasing him she retreated back to shore. One hasty drying later she threw her clothes on and left him alone again.

' _Why do I get the feeling that Arya planted her here for me to find?'_ Eragon mused.

' _Because you would be right making that assumption.'_ Saphira replied.

' _You were in on this? Since when are we keeping secrets from each other?'_ Eragon asked disapprovingly.

She huffed in return. _'I was bound by oath not to tell you. Since you found out on your own, however, I no longer have to keep it from you.'_

Eragon wasn't planning on letting it slide that easily, but he didn't have the composure to press the issue right now. _'Do you think I should go see her?'_ He asked, already knowing what his dragon would answer.

' _I think you should.'_

Eragon sighed and began wading to shore. _'If she tries to kill me I'm holding you personally responsible.'_ The only reply was some amused humming as Saphira drew back her mind, dulling their connection a little.

Feeling as if the world was conspiring against him he set out to find the elven woman that had haunted his dreams for months. To his great surprise Arya was actually nowhere to be found. He looked in her tent, Brom's command tent, the reclusive spot on the mountain to the south that she liked to meditate on. He checked the practice fields, the archery range. Eragon even went as far as to see if he could spot Firnen's massive green bulk anywhere so he could ask him but to no avail.

When the sun had set he gave up and retreated to his tent. _'I have flown over the camp also but didn't find her.'_ Saphira informed him as she landed next to the tent.

' _Curious through how much trouble she went only to have me chasing ghosts. I suppose this just confirms my theory.'_ He replied, pulling off his clothes and dropping onto his cot. Though he didn't necessarily need to sleep tonight, his head was killing him and his body still felt abused from the torment he'd put it through. For a moment it seemed as if Saphira was looking for a reply, searching for the right words. A moment later however she gave up and wished him good night.

It was an uneasy sleep. One plagued by ghosts of the past and persistent images of the destruction he caused alternated by reliving the torture he'd imposed on Arya. After hours of tossing and turning about he sat up in his bed. Something Irked at him, compelled him to move. Then it dawned on him.

 _The promise._

He'd promised Arya to come to her should his dreams be plagued by nightmares again. The fact that he'd done so in the ancient language meant he had no choice but to do exactly that. With a mingled feeling of dread and anticipation he threw on his breeches and shirt again before striding out into the night. The moon was full and at its apex high above him as he silently he drifted through the camp. Over the weeks he'd gotten better at hiding himself – which proved to be slightly more challenging with white wings – and somehow he managed to remain undetected by any of the sentries.

To his great surprise it was not towards the elven encampment his feet led him, but rather south; out and away from the Varden and into Surda. He walked for hours until he finally stumbled across a small stream surrounded by light shrubbery. There was a hint of magic in the air which told him he was on the right track. They were not harmful spells, rather they had characteristics of warding magic so as to make the location slightly more homely. There, nestled gently into a bedroll, lay Arya her head only inches away from the edge of the water.

Somehow Eragon was not surprised. Come to think of it, he would probably have done the same thing after spending three weeks in a tent. Carefully he sat down perhaps ten paces away, leaning his back against one of the standing boulders that littered the landscape. He had promised to come find her – which is exactly what he had done. He would not disturb her sleep if he could avoid it.

He drew his knees close to his chest and rested his head on them, studying Arya's prone form. He focused on the steady rhythm of her breathing and allowed himself to sink into a semi meditative state. At some point he must have drifted off again because the next thing Eragon was aware of was a gentle hand shaking him awake. "Eragon, wake up." With a groan he opened his eyes, unconsciously moving his wings to remove the worst of the numbness that had crept up on him. The darkness of night still surrounded them. "What are you doing here?" she asked in the ancient language

He looked away in shame. "The promise you had me make. I _had_ to come to you if the nightmares kept me up and so I did."

"How long have you been here?" She asked, her voice calm and even.

"Three hours after midnight I think."

Arya gasped. "You could have woken me up, you know." She chastised him.

"I promised I would find you, not that I would disturb your sleep for the sake of my own." Arya looked as if she wanted to start an argument over it but reconsidered.

"Ironic. I waited all day for you to find me but it's a promise that forced you here." She sounded almost… exposed when she said the words.

Eragon quirked an eyebrow. "I have searched everywhere I could think of, from your tent to the kitchens. Not even Saphira was able to find you and I couldn't find Firnen anywhere either." He replied in the ancient language.

"Firnen has been hunting since yesterday evening." Arya said, looking away.

"And what of you?" Eragon pressed.

Arya cleared her throat. "I was waiting in your tent." She said softly. "I… even though I no longer remember the weeks I spent in my own, I just can't stand the sight of those walls anymore."

"Well, this is the part where I apologize for violating your mind. Twice. I destroyed your trust in me and however much I wish to do so, I can never undo those actions. You have made it clear where we stand. If you would release me from my vow, I won't disturb you ever again either so you can live your life in peace."

Arya weighed her next words carefully. "What you did was wrong, I will not deny that. But no action is truly unforgivable. Sometimes the penance is great, sometimes it is small, but there is always a way to redeem yourself." She spoke in her mother tongue.

"Not for me, Arya. You will always see me for what I truly am now. I forced three weeks' worth of memories filled with the stuff of nightmares into your skull to undo the worst of what I did."

She knelt down before him, grasping his arm. "You gave me three weeks of proof how much you care for me."

"I killed a man for you. Cold blooded murder and I didn't even hesitate. I have lived your memories, Arya. I spent those three weeks locked in your tent in your stead and know how you felt throughout. But not even you can be blind to what that says about me."

Arya smiled a sad smile. "In a macabre way, it's actually kind of sweet that you would. Eragon, I know you are not perfect. By now I would have hoped you realized the same thing about me. I am done running from the past. I have made my choice."

When she said that Eragon felt predominantly panicked. "Arya, I have already hurt you so badly."

"As have I you. I should have realized so much sooner what you were, who you were. I was angry and naïve and caused you so much pain. As you said, I truly see who you are now. What dangers and horrors you brave and how dangerous they can be." She pulled his hand to her chest. "What beats in here is hurt and damaged, but it belongs to you if you will have it."

The look in Arya's eyes was so vulnerable that moment that it broke Eragon inside. Unable to stand it any longer he pulled her towards him, crushing her smaller frame to his chest and wrapping his wings around her and to himself he vowed he would never let her go.

"I still think you are making a mistake." He whispered.

Her hands pushed against him and hesitantly he allowed her some leeway. She pulled herself up, settling herself a little more comfortably against him before gently pressing her tender lips to his own. Eragon's surprise quickly faded as he reciprocated. After what could have been hours or minutes she was resting against his chest. "Rest now." She murmured. "You have a lot of sleeping to catch up on. I will still be here when you wake."

* * *

STATE OF THE UNION

* * *

So, this is the part where I start rambling about what kinds of fucked up my life has become. I suppose I should start around the time when I suddenly stopped uploading half a year ago. I currently study chemical engineering and failed one of my courses. On its own this wouldn't have been so bad, were it not for the fact that despite my repeated communications, the university decided to ignore the fact that I HAD NO BOOK. When I then proceeded to complain about not having a book, they told me it was circumstantial and there was nothing they could do.

I said 'ok, since it's circumstantial, that means we can come to an arrangement for a retake in half a year or so when I DO have my book, right?'

Then they was all like 'no.'

I found that pretty unacceptable and ended up dragging them to a civilian court for it – hilarity ensued. Now let me tell you one thing about legal procedures: they are not fun. In the midst of this I was also trying to keep up with the hardest quarter year so far and quite ended up with a complete burnout. I have only barely recovered and I am still no further along with my quest. I suppose what I'm trying to say is… 'I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread'. All references aside though, my creative spirit was pretty crushed in the process and it took me a while to find it again.

That's also why this chapter might feel slightly different. When you don't work with something for long enough a time you kind of lose touch with it. You will have to give me a couple of chapters to reintegrate myself with my work. Expect the next update somewhere this month if all goes well. Cheers everyone.


	27. Chapter 26

The next chapter. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **THE NEXT TIME YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THIS STORY LOOK IN THE M-RATED SECTION**

A quick note: We had a poll on this already and by majority vote the whole thing is getting bumped to M… I guess that kind of gives spoilers for the next chapter too, doesn't it? xD. Unless I get an overwhelming amount of people going like 'nooooooo!' we are bumping this baby to the next level.

* * *

The sound of iron clamoring against iron permeated the air. The smithies had been working overtime to supply new swords and helmets ever since the Varden had started dropping soldiers by the hundreds. Roran knew his liege was currently being punished for his failure to bring an end to that. He wandered along one of the capital's many walls on his way to the plaza where Murtagh had summoned him to. To what end Roran had not been informed of. He found the red rider seated underneath an old oak tree. It was probably the only reminder that remained of the conflict that had raged here a century earlier. Though time had done its work, the trunk was covered in discernable cuts and dents of swords and arrows. "How bad is it?" Roran asked, sitting down next to his mentor.

"Pretty bad." Murtagh confirmed, unable to completely hide the pain in his voice. "How long have you been in my service now?" he asked.

"A little over five years." Roran replied, wondering where the rider was going with this.

"And how would you say those years have worked out for you?"

Roran shrugged. "We had our moments. I do not regret coming here, if that is what you are asking."

"You never came here, you were driven here." Murtagh remarked offhandedly.

"What do you mean?"

Murtagh smiled sadly. "It was fear that drove you away from your home. Fear to fail your cousin and arrogance to think you were more important than him. That you could be of more use elsewhere. I don't blame you for making that decision – I would probably have done the same."

"That fear and arrogance – as you put it – have turned me into one of the greatest warriors of the empire." Roran replied indignantly.

There was a slight chuckle. "It's precisely what kept you _from_ greatness. The conflict you feel within is keeping you from learning the simplest, yet most significant lesson of all."

"And that lesson is?"

Murtagh turned to face him, allowing for a brief silence to fall before he spoke. "It's not about you." A deep sigh followed. "Will you allow me to share something with you?"

Roran felt the rider's mind reach out to his own. Though he had never gained an aptitude for telepathy, he had a certain aptitude for sensing when his mind was touched. It was very rare for Murtagh to share something this way and Roran, ableit reluctantly, accepted. Murtagh pulled him away from the here and now and into a memory. For some reason the colors were distorted. _"This memory was passed on from Durza before his demise."_ The rider informed him as he stepped onto the frozen ground next to him.

 _A few figures were gathered around a fire, their cowls pulled far over their heads obscuring their features in shadow. "Where are we?" Roran asked._

" _East, beyond the explored world. Galbatorix sent his servants on a search for potential allies. Most of them failed, but Durza stumbled across something of a gold mine. These are a seafaring, nomadic people with strength and agility on par with elves. Worse, they have turned a sympathetic ear to the whisperings from Uru Baen." The people in the circle whispered in a language unknown to Roran. For a moment the fire brightened and revealed a patch of slightly blue hued skin underneath one of the cowls._

" _I have seen many things by your side, but this has to be a new record." Roran muttered._

" _Galbatorix, despite his madness, is not blind." Murtagh pressed on, ignoring him. "When the elves march – and under your cousin's guidance they will – he will send word. An army will invade Du Weldenvarden from the east when they are defenseless. Thousands of innocents will be slaughtered. The resistance in the north will break and Galbatorix can rain down on the Varden with unparalleled vengeance. While your cousin is strong, he is not limitless. He will be vastly outnumbered, outgunned and when, not if, when he loses the fragments of his power will be scattered on the winds."_

" _But why show me this?"_

" _Though you and your father and your grandfather have lived under His rule, even you cannot be blind to the darkness that festers at this land." Murtagh allowed Roran to ponder the truth of those words for a moment. "I wish nothing more than to fight against that madman, but alas my hands are bound. You, however, still have a choice."_

" _What would you have me do?"_

" _I will command you to do nothing. What you do from here on out is entirely up to you."_

" _So you would allow me to stay by your side?"_

 _Murtagh smiled sadly. "You could, and the world would be all the lesser for it. You have such a capacity for goodness. And for growth. You would have made a remarkable general one day given the time. No, I will not give you a command. But, as your friend, I would like to make a suggestion." Roran nodded. "Tonight, under the cover of darkness, leave the city. Go north and gather as many sympathizers as you can. You are a gifted speaker and with practice you can learn to be a leader to them. Make them see reason. Make them do the right thing. When the time comes gather what men you have found and travel across the desert. Head east at least two weeks before heading north. Hide in the forests and wait for an opportunity to present itself. Ensure that Galbatorix has enough time to fall before the trap is sprung. I will ensure backup will arrive. I promise." The last sentence was spoken in the ancient language, binding Murtagh to do as he said he would."_

" _We had a good run together." Roran said quietly, confirming his choice._

 _Murtagh smiled at his protégé and nodded. "Indeed we have. Should you choose to leave tonight, never look back. No matter if I beg, implore or demand you to return to my side, ignore my voice. You are hereby absolved of all oaths, vows and promises that bind you to me in any way."_ The memory faded and Roran was back in the here and now once again.

"Look, a storm gathers to the east." Murtagh remarked, as if nothing had happened.

* * *

If there was indeed a hell, Eragon might have wanted to be there instead of in the open while nature's fury rained down upon them. Arya and Faolin – god knows why he had wanted to tag along – had used their magic to protect them from the worst of it and the shield should theoretically hold when struck by lightning. Eragon, however, was not about to test that theory. Eventhough neither would swallow their pride and admit it, Eragon could clearly see they were tiring. He wished he could help, but it was likely that anything he conjured up would do more harm than good. "We have to find shelter!" He yelled, trying to cry over the howling wind.

It was probably a small blessing Saphira had stayed behind in the Varden camp to act as a deterrent for any potential attackers. Arya had been most distraught at the thought of leaving her beloved Firnen behind, their bond not yet as strong as his and Saphira's. But when Saphira had sworn to protect him with her life Arya had reluctantly agreed. His dragon hated being grounded in this type of weather. Truth be told, his own wings were more of a liability in this situation as well. He had to focus on keeping them tucked tightly against his back to prevent the gale force winds from taking him on an adventure. If they didn't find anything soon though, he would have to try and brave the storm in order to gain a better vantage point. After a while he couldn't stand the look on Arya's face any longer. He closed the distance between them and talked straight into her pointy ear. "I'm going up. You are tiring and we are not in friendly lands."

Arya looked at him as if he was crazy. "You want to go fly into this storm?" she asked incredulously.

"Unless you have a better suggestion." He confirmed.

"Stay on the ground where you are not prone to breaking all your bones and keep walking with us." She chastised. Eragon wanted to kiss her right there and then, but he knew she was very reserved and he would not want to pressure her into it in front of her former love interest. Instead he settled for a brief, subtle touch of hands before stepping out of the protective bubble. Immediately the wind strength tripled and the pelting rain became twice as cold. Before he could give himself time to reconsider he opened his wings ever so slightly and was immediately ripped off the ground. It took him five terrifying counts to get his flight under control. He angled himself into the wind and began to ascend. It was an exhausting task and he felt his recently injured wing protest under the unusual strain, but he managed to gain ground so he was flying directly over his traveling companions.

Though the rain was wet and soaked his clothes, his wings were coated in a thin layer that prevented them from becoming waterlogged. It was at moments like this that he missed Saphira's eagle eyes that could undoubtedly spot anything worth investigating from ten leagues away. All Eragon really saw was a grey haze that clouded nearly anything from sight. A lightning strike barely missed to his left, reminding him of just how dangerous it was up here and to get on with it. Not wasting any more time he began a grid-like search of the immediate vicinity.

Most of it was just grass, grass and more grass with the occasional tree too thin to double as shelter. Flat plains with not even the remotest semblance of cover. The best thing he came across was a small crack in the ground where time had carved out a shallow stone overhang and flanked by a tree and some shrubbery. He searched for a little while longer, but failed to find anything. That, and his face and fingertips had gone numb and were beginning to turn blue. Once he had retrieved Arya and Faolin he realized that it was going to be quite a challenge to get his feet on the ground again. He ended up coming in way too fast in a fashion that would normally have him busting up his knees. Thanks to the pelting rain and the thick grass, that didn't come to pass. However, after his landing he was surprisingly… green.

Ignoring the humored looks he got from the two elves he pointed northwest and yelled "That way!" Trying to maintain as much of his dignity as he could he limped after the two as they started fighting their way against the wind in the direction he'd indicated. On serveral occasions he had to fight the urge to punch Faolin in the face when he leaned in a little too close to Arya, but he managed to restrain himself. When they finally reached the overhang they practically fell into it. When Arya released her magic an unpleasantly cold breeze started to waft through the recess.

At first it didn't seem so bad, but to Eragon's surprise the elves soon started to shiver, huddled up as they were. His wings were already sore to his earlier activities, but it looked like he didn't have a choice. Knowing full well he would be in a world of discomfort after this, he spread out his wings as far as he could and allowed the trailing edge to rest against the rock above him while the primaries turned a grey-brown in the dirt behind and below him. Indeed the position was uncomfortable, but at least Arya was shielded from the worst of the wind now. And Faolin too of course.

The difference between the two was once again striking. While Arya looked at him gratefully, Faolin seemed to be somewhere between ashamed and offended. "You two should rest. I don't require sleep for at least another two days so I'll be fine." He informed them, trying to rearrange his wings in a way that put a little less pull on his muscles but failing. The two in front of him were too miserable to protest and so, probably for the first time in their life, they did as they were told and Eragon settled in for a long night.

When he was sure the two were asleep he projected his mind across the land. Not much had changed in the encampment. Soldiers were going about packing their gear in preparation of tomorrow's march, Brom was trying to stifle a riot in the kitchen and Nemeya was lingering suspiciously close around the elven tents. It wasn't hard to spot Saphira's lumbering blue mass. Walking up to her he pressed his hand against her snout. _"Don't bite."_ He whispered into her ear, causing her sleeping body to stir until a large, blue iris was looking directly into his face.

She cocked her head in reply. Although he could verbally communicate, the link appeared not to work for telepathic communication. _"We got caught in a storm, but managed to find shelter. We should reach the elven forest by tomorrow. Stay safe, dragon mine."_ They remained like that for a moment until Eragon released his hold on the sorcery and was ripped back into his body leagues upon leagues away from her.

As the night progressed Eragon found himself idly toying around with the knife he'd been tinkering with for a few days now. It was nothing but a vague idea, a concept in his mind, but if it actually worked it might have some potential. At the very least it would keep him busy for a while. The rain had stopped and the worst of the gale force winds had subsided but he dared not move in fear of waking Arya up. And Faolin of course.

Not to mention it would look insanely creepy if they were to wake up to him standing over them with a knife and he was not ready to test his relationship with Arya like that just yet.

He was so caught up in his musings however that he failed to notice her move. "What are you doing?" she whispered, moving closer as to not wake Faolin.

"A little sorcery I have been experimenting with since we left the Varden, nothing to worry yourself about."

She moved closer still, so she could whisper right into his ear so softly nobody could hear it even if they were standing right next to them. "Although I disapprove, I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier today. That took courage. How are you holding up?"

Eragon sighed, closing his hand around her upper arm before whispering his reply. "Your buddy has been spoiling for a fight for days. The way he talks to me, the way he 'accidentally' bumps into you every chance he gets. His offensive demeanor I can live with, but with you I get… possessive." He admitted.

"I know you hate him." She whispered.

Eragon nodded. "You have also known him since early childhood." Arya gave him a look and so he struggled to find a better explanation for her. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't have many friends. I could not live with myself if I alienated you from those you do have, even if I don't approve of them. Even if that means I don't get to hold you."

"So I'm a prize now?" Arya asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, I meant-" Eragon looked at her. "Why yes, yes you are to me. Do you have a problem with that?"

"I don't know. I have never been a prize before." Arya pondered. "Regardless I am thankful that you are so considerate. Truth be told I was looking forward to being alone with you as well, but we will have to cope with the situation as it is. When we reach Ellesmera I promise things will be better."

Eragon smiled and chanced a fleeting embrace which she happily allowed. "What woke you up?" he asked.

"Something magical is walking around out there. I have always been more sensitive to it than others." In reply Eragon lowered his wing, wincing as the muscles in his back pulled painfully after being strained for too long. Sure enough there was a lone glowing orb out there that hovered roughly at eye height.

"Eragon, that's a-"

"I know what it is." He said, slowly turning himself around to face the spirit. Behind them Faolin began to stir. He began to complain about the cold but quickly hushed as he saw the glowing orb. Eragon rose and walked towards it, Arya quick to follow. First the orb moved to her and gently touched her outstretched hand. A wide smile appeared on her face. The contact lasted for perhaps ten counts before the light distanced itself from her.

"Thank you." She said, bowing slightly.

Next it moved towards Eragon. He was slightly more hesitant, but stretched out his hand as well. When the orb touched him however, it wasn't anything good it felt. Instead a searing pain went through his nerves unlike any he'd ever felt before. It paralyzed him. He couldn't move, couldn't scream for help. Eragon was truly trapped. Cloaked figures began to come out of the dark, much like the first time he'd met Icarus. One by one they touched the orb and immediately the intense pain began to lessen. He felt something strange press against its mind. Knowing what had happened to those that had previously tried to go in there, Eragon decided the risk was minimal and allowed the entity entry.

There was something akin to faint whispering before a voice spoke in his mind. It was neither male nor female, it compared best to the voice of a child. _"I apologise, I thought you had trapped my brethren but they told me they are here of their own free will."_

Eragon was startled. _"I thought Spirits couldn't communicate like this."_

" _Not usually no, but you have been touched by our mistress. The small part of her that resides within you allows for this."_

Eragon thought for a moment who this mistress of theirs was. _"Are you talking about Death?"_ He asked.

Without asking for permission the spirit dove into his mind, looking for some sort of information. The intrusion wasn't painful, just highly uncomfortable. As quickly as it began it was over. _"Yes. She is the one you call Death."_

" _What brought you to us?"_ Eragon asked.

" _Curiosity. I sensed a strong magical presence nearby, but I didn't expect to find the one that freed my people."_

" _Excuse me?"_

" _The man you killed who was keeping my people without consent. Durza you call him, yes? You have done us a great service for which we can never repay you and you have my thanks."_

" _Well…"_ Eragon replied, suddenly feeling a little shy. _"It was a combined effort. You should be thanking her as well."_ He said, gesturing to Arya.

" _I saw what I needed to see. You struck the killing blow and therefore you are the one we are indebted to."_ It was easy to forget that the spirits didn't share the same perspective as humans, or so Eragon thought. _"But maybe I might be able to do you a favor right now."_ With that the globe detached itself from him and floated over to Faolin.

Eragon was not quite sure whether to be amused or disapproving when the orb flashed red and the elf suddenly doubled over in pain. "Eragon, what's happening?" Arya asked as she watched her friend writhe around on the ground.

"The spirit told me it was thankful for killing Durza, It looked through my mind and I think it's trying to say 'thank you' in its own, unique way. I totally disapprove of course."

"Eragon, I – wait it talked to you? You have to do something!"

He watched Faolin twitch on the ground. "Do I really have to? I mean-"

"Eragon!"

He jumped at her sudden outburst. "Fine, fine. I'll try." He said, raising his hands. He took a firm stance, pointed straight at the spirit and said "Floaty light, be gone!" Arya now looked absolutely murderous. "Fine, I will actually try this time." Reflexively a part deep within him reached out in aid. Though he wasn't sure where it came from he embraced it. A strange language started to roll off his tongue but surprisingly enough the spirit quickly caught on and indeed did leave Faolin alone. It danced one last circle around them and disappeared back into the night.

"We are going to have to talk about your sense of humor." Arya said sternly as she helped Faolin up. "Also how did you do that?" Eragon shrugged in reply. Faolin clung to her hand just a moment too long for it to be seen as casual and the rider had to clench his fists to remain in control.

"Well, I don't know about you guys but I'm fully awake again." The rider said. "Also the weather has calmed sufficiently that we can continue our journey, should we so choose."

"I'm sure you had something to do with this." Faolin muttered as he shivered where he stood.

'For Arya. Control yourself for Arya' Eragon chanted in his mind. "I made it stop torturing you. A simple 'thank you' would suffice." He said with a sigh.

Much to the rider's annoyance however, the elf didn't quit his bantering. "I bet you used your twisted sorcery to make it do that." Faolin spat.

Eragon immediately got a headache. "Mind your manners, elf. I just spent half the night in discomfort so you could get some sleep."

"Is that a challenge?" Faolin replied, his hand going for his blade.

"No, it was a reprimand. Now put that toy away before you hurt yourself." Eragon hissed.

Arya tried to come between the two to keep the peace. "Boys, please."

"Are you too scared to put up a fair fight against me? You must truly be weak."

Eragon laughed. "You must not have heard what happened to your 'revered swordsman' Vanir. He also lacked the brains to know when he was overstepping his bounds."

Arya valiantly attempted to intervene once again. "Calm down-"

She was silenced by the sound of iron clashing against iron. Faolin's blade was resting against Aurora, the blade drawn perhaps an inch out of its sheath. Eragon's eyes sought Arya, who was frantically looking back and forth between him and the other elf. "Put it away now, and I will pretend you didn't just do that." Eragon said, glancing at a few cut feathers that floated down from his left wing. Though it was no significant damage it still annoyed him to no end.

"Try me." Faolin grinned.

Faster than either elf could see Eragon's other hand lashed out, connecting to Faolin's nose with a sickening crack. As the man lurched back he kicked the elf's sword hand, causing his opponent's blade to go flying. Faolin stumbled back and fell as the blade described a neat arc through the air. He caught it and threw the straight steel so it came to a quivering stop in the tree trunk right above where the elf lay. "You are not worth the air you breathe." Drawing both Aurora and Umbra he sauntered towards his fallen opponent.

"Eragon, don't!" Arya yelled in hysterics.

Not paying her any mind he brought down both his blades hard in a crushing blow. "But, for reasons I cannot fathom, you mean something to Arya. For that reason alone you are spared. Good luck explaining that one to the blacksmith." Eragon said, leaving Faolin dumb folded with the shattered remains of his sword in his lap while blood from his broken nose dripped onto them. Not deigning the elf worthy of any more of his attention he sheathed Icarus's blades and distanced himself from the two elves, scared of what might happen if his limits were tested further.

There was some quiet shuffling behind him and he knew Arya was there, looking for a way to break the ice. "I cannot express how sincerely sorry I am for his actions."

"Don't be." Eragon replied, gesturing for her to join him. "I'm not easily offended, even less by the likes of Faolin. I have been having this feeling lately." Eragon mused.

She came to stand closer to him "What feeling?"

"It's something a little like your affinity for magic, except far more ambiguous. Call it instinct, an undiscovered sixth sense, but the world around us seems uneasy. More uneasy than it should be that is. Something is moving in the dark, just beyond my reach. Every day I feel like I'm getting closer to the source and whenever it's in my grasp some idiot like Faolin comes along and struts through it like an elephant in the king's porcelain cabinet. Speaking of him, he should be watched. Closely."

"I understand there will be hard feelings between the two of you, but-"

Eragon waved her away. "I already told you it's not about that. If you want I will tell you the truth about him, just as I told you the truth about yourself. But you may not like what you hear." There was a brief pause as she visibly gulped, but then she nodded.

"Alright."

"I wonder if I should be more selfish and make you swear not to hate me, but I couldn't do that to you. Not anymore. Faolin is a rather simple being. He is governed entirely by one motivation: personal gain. He has spent a… considerable time trying to court you. An endeavor in which he has now failed. Even though we have not been overt about it, he is neither blind nor stupid. To make matters worse he has been antagonizing me from the moment we met. Consider what he has shown tonight. Truly consider it – not the direct consequences but what it says about him. He so desperately wants to hurt me, to show I'm fallible that he will ignore all reason in his quest to do so."

"He hardly poses a threat to you and I doubt he would stoop as low as to assassinate you."

"Perhaps. In any case, the ties that bind him to our side of this conflict are fading by the day. Galbatorix has something to offer that he desires very much – a fighting chance against me. Consider the consequences of what might happen if an elf with intimate knowledge of Du Weldenvarden, the Varden, their leaders, generals and defenses voluntarily joins him."

Arya looked abhorred. "He would never pick up arms against me. I find it quite frankly absurd you would suggest Faolin be capable of something like this."

"Hatred can blind anyone, even an elf."

"Enough of this. Faolin will not betray us."

This time Eragon spoke to her in the ancient language. "Do you truly believe that?" Arya looked at him and her mouth opened to reply, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't get the high word out. "I thought as much." When he saw the look of distress on her face Eragon gently caught her in his arms. "Fret not, Arya of the elves. Nothing of the sort has come to pass yet. There is still time and just because something is plausible doesn't mean it is likely. Come, I promise that you will feel better by the time we start walking again."

* * *

Roran walked down the unlit corridor. On his back he carried supplies for a month, a simple tent and clothes to fend off the weather. Suddenly something made him trip and for a moment he thought the old passage had been trapped. Upon closer inspection that turned out not to be the case. Instead there was a neatly wrapped bundle with a note attached. As he undid the ropes the cloth fell away to reveal a masterfully crafted sword worthy of a king. Taking the note he held the torch closer in order to read its contents.

' _This is Galasverd, or the Singing Blade. May it serve you as a better good luck charm than its last wielder.'_

With a smile he took his old master's gift and, after taking a brief moment to truly appreciate the craftsmanship, he carried on down the path, whistling a quiet tune as he went.

* * *

 **THE NEXT TIME YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THIS STORY LOOK IN THE M-RATED SECTION**

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So first off I would like to say thank you to everyone. I really wasn't sure what the reply would be when I updated last week and to read all your heartwarming welcome back notes really gave me a pick-me-up. I hope those of you who had to reread didn't have too bad a time ;). You guys are awesome. A few quick replies to those of you who commented something I felt needed a reply.

Boredoom – It's not so much about retaking a failed course, it's about not getting the two legal exam opportunities in one class. By law they are required to give you two chances to pass a course over here. If you can prove that one of those was unfair due to circumstantial causes, you are by law appointed a third. Especially for someone like me who gets _all_ courses the first go, it was kind of strange that they made a point out of it not to give me that retake. It's not like I asked them for anything before that. Still I appreciate the kind words :).

Elemental Dragon Slayer, Mad hatter, Tamerlorde85, praylearnwrite – You guys have been here from the get-go and to see that after half a year of hiatus you are still lingering around really warms my heart. A special shout out to you!


	28. Chapter 27

And so, after an 8 hour sitting, I bring you this next, extra long, extra awesome, extra M-rated 7000 word long chunk of I have been awake for 19 hours straight so I'm going to bed enjoy.

* * *

 **This chapter contains explicit sexual content**

* * *

It felt strange to be back, though at the same time it felt homely to sit across Oromis once again as Glaedr sunbathed a short distance away. There had been a banquet in honor of his arrival, though it was clear not everyone was glad he was here. Islanzadi's welcome – as well as Oromis's – had been amongst the few heartfelt greetings. Much contrary to Arya, who had been practically devoured by the crowds. Undoubtedly the elves were happy that the remaining egg had hatched for one of their own. Still it stung a little. He had a killer backache from the overexertion of flight, but there was little time to think of that now. "Before I forget, I wanted to thank you for your help this morning." Eragon said, leaning back into his chair.

"It was no trouble at all. On another matter, does Brom have a successor in mind?" his teacher asked, offering another glass of crystal clear water to Eragon. The sun was low on the horizon, dusk setting in. As his meeting with Islanzadi was not until after dark, he'd opted to spend most of the day here.

Eragon shrugged. "He hasn't explicitly named one, though I believe he intends for Nasuada to take his place soon. I haven't talked to her much but she and Nemeya are at the very least acquainted. She has potential, but is young and inexperienced. I can only hope she garners the council that is offered to her. How are battle preparations coming along?"

"Slow. It has been some time since our people last saw prolonged conflict. Elves never ventured out of the forest and Galbatorix – save for the occasional harassment – never trespassed in it. Many allowed themselves to be lured into a false sense of security."

"Will you fly out to join them?"

Oromis nodded. "With two additional riders on our side, this is the best chance we are going to get at defeating Galbatorix. Glaedr and I would disrespect the legacy of the order if we did not."

Eragon nodded silently. "I thought as much. In that case I have one last thing I'd like to discuss. Do you trust me?"

The older rider frowned. "A strange question. I think you have proven your loyalty to our cause by now."

Eragon shook his head. "That's not what I meant. Do you trust me enough to share a very dark, very terrible secret with me?"

"That depends on the boon you are asking." Oromis said, his eyes sharp.

Eragon allowed for a brief silence to fall. "You are not as you should be. You never told me the specifics but it's clear from the way you move and think. An able bodied rider would never have passed up the chance to size up my swordsmanship and instead you sent Vanir."

" _Be careful of how you speak, Eragon finrael."_ Glaedr boomed in his mind.

"Please, Glaedr. It's quite alright." Oromis said, calming his dragon down. "You are correct, what is it you would like to know?"

"I find it hard to believe that your problem, whatever it is, was caused by some sort of physical ailment as your people would undoubtedly have found some way to mend the damage. My humble request is that you would enlighten me as to exactly _how_ you came to be as you are."

The older rider cleared his throat. "It's a painful memory for which you ask, but even so it is not a closely guarded secret. Not between elves that is. But why do you seek this knowledge?"

Instead of answering the question, Eragon countered with one of his own. "To what extent are you aware of and familiar with the back injury Arya sustained some time ago?"

"She mentioned something about Durza, but nothing specific."

"As you are undoubtedly aware, Shades are by nature evil creatures. When their body dies the spirits that are trapped within go free and the soul of what was once the magician remains behind torn and withered. Though I am by no means a master in the art, from what I've seen soul magic is a very fickle thing. In Arya's case she was sufficiently weakened by her wound that the shards of Carsib's soul found a host to cling on to."

"Fascinating. Nothing is known about such magic. Many believe it doesn't even exist."

"Oh, it very much exists and Icarus was a master in it. Not all are born with the required sensitivity to control such fundamental energy, but it is possible." Eragon pointed a thumb over his shoulder to his bright white wings. "When Icarus… passed on, I inherited that power. I used it to free Arya from her burden." The rider considered his next words carefully. "I have seen the empire concoct some… curious evil. That means that, though unlikely, it's not impossible that _perhaps_ I can fix what was broken inside of you. If you and Glaedr intend to face the empire once again, I'd rather it be while you are at the strongest you can be. But first I will have to know more about the cause."

Something glinted in Oromis's eyes. Perhaps something between hope and agony. "I will admit I am a little dazzled in the face of what you are offering."

"Don't celebrate just yet. Like I said, I don't know if I can do anything."

"Very well. During the Fall I lived in Ilirea. I won't bother with the details, but I came to be overpowered by two of the Forsworn, Galbatorix's henchmen. At the time it was unthinkable that elves would side with him, but it was Fomora and Kialandi who proved us wrong. Has anybody ever told you the history of Galbatorix?" Eragon shook his head in reply. "He was young and foolish once, just like we all were. In his overconfidence he and his first dragon, Jarnunvosk, went on a quest to slaughter a group of Urgals. They chased them far into the Spine, but Galbatorix's dragon sustained a terrible wound when they were ambushed at night. He succumbed to the cold and left behind a heartbroken rider."

There was a brief silence when Oromis took a sip of his water. "He came before the council of elders and begged us for another dragon. At first the council was willing to give in, but I believed him not to be fit to be a rider and as such his request was denied. Unknowingly in doing so I ended up painting a large target on my back. When Fomora and Kialandi captured me, they had something… special Galbatorix had prepared just for me. Through Durza he had acquired a piece of magic, not unlike what you described about Arya. The spell they cast on me isolates me from the energy around me, effectively preventing me from using anything other than small amounts of energy for the smallest spells. I get occasional seizures as a side-effect."

" _The bone-blight nerve rot is a festering disease. I would tear those two Forsworn from limb to limb were they not already dead."_ Glaedr supplied.

"Do you perhaps remember the incantation? Or singular words, phrases or sounds? Anything would help." In truth Eragon had no idea what he was doing, but if worse came to worse he could murder his way into another meeting with Icarus and discuss it with him instead. Unfortunately Oromis shook his head.

"I was knocked unconscious at the time."

Eragon nodded. "Alright. It's almost getting dark, I'd better return to the city. It's best not to keep the queen waiting and I want to return to the Varden as soon as possible. I'll do some digging and let you know as soon as I find out anything more. When I return next time I hope to have answers and hopefully Saphira can join me so we may continue our training. Today, however, I am pressed for time."

Oromis looked like he wanted to say something more. "Eragon," he said, "even if it doesn't work, I still appreciate the gesture." Eragon inclined his head in acknowledgement before walking to the edge of the cliff and casually strolling off. His wings painfully gathered with air and he made a point not to move too much as he used hot air currents to lazily drift back westward towards Ellesmera. On his way there he briefly dipped down to throw on a fresh pair of clothes in the house he'd been appointed by the queen herself. Apparently it was Vrael's old home and now it supposedly belonged to him as the most senior of the free next generation riders. To him it just felt strange and unhomely, but perhaps that had something to do with the angry stares he got each time one of the servants came to bring him anything.

To his surprise he saw Illium lounging against one of the wooden pillars of the doorframe. "Shouldn't you be on your way back to the Varden?" Eragon asked, coming to a halt in front of the elf.

"I leave tomorrow morning. I finished up the last few things Islanzadi requested of me this morning. When I heard you and the princess had arrived I just had to swing by."

Eragon sighed. "There was a banquet last night in honor of our arrival. It would have saved you the trouble of coming all the way out here. I just came by to throw on a fresh tunic, you are welcome to come in in the meantime."

"Ugh, I hate banquets." Illium replied as he followed Eragon up the stairs. "All those etiquettes get in the way of any real conversation. Are you here to fulfill your end of the bargain to queen Islanzadi?" he asked.

"Mostly. Arya wanted to speak to some lord who apparently has a rider-worthy sword. Undoubtedly she wants to be prepared for when she and Firnen first enter combat together. Faolin decided to be inexcusably clingy about it and ended up bruising his ego on the way here."

Illium snorted. "More like you bruised it for him. Arya told me about it when we met in Tialdari hall for breakfast earlier today."

"Well, I hope he plans on remaining here. I'm really not looking forward to having him on my hide again on the way back." Suddenly Eragon thought of something. With a few quick steps he reached the desk that was set up against the back wall. Taking out a piece of parchment he wrote a short note and folded it. Using a nearby lit candle he dripped a small amount of wax onto it and pressed a small feather he pulled out of his lower primaries to it. He then haded the note to Illium, who had watched him with growing interest. "Hand this to Brom when you get back. It ought to get you started in your new… career."

"What does it say?" The elf asked.

Eragon smiled. "You will find out when you have given it to Brom. Now shoo. Getting in and out of tunics with wings on your back isn't the most graceful procedure."

Illium laughed. "I'd love to see it, actually." A small knife ended up quivering in the wood next to the blue-haired elf's head, who only laughed harder. "Alright, I'll take my leave. In case we do not see each other until after we return south, safe journeys."

When the rider was sure his friend had left, he wrestled himself into a fresh plain white tunic and wandered out into the forest. Darkness had fallen, leaving only the dimly lit candles that littered Ellesmera. The last time he had actually been inside Tialdari hall he'd been accused of spying and treason. Hopefully this time would be better. He knew this was where Arya had lived since birth and while somewhat familiar with the gardens, he had never actually gotten a tour of the hall itself. Gathering his courage about him he pushed onwards.

He had requested two boons of Islanzadi. Or rather, he had asked for twelve. It was a curious experience to drive a bargain with an elven queen. She had plenty of gold and power to spare. As a result her price had been a lot more… immaterial. And risky. He would be able to deliver, there was little doubt about that, the real question was if Islanzadi was strong enough to survive with her mind intact. He had already given a few mixtures Angela prepared to Illium, who in turn passed them on to her. Hopefully they would help to ease the stress.

Now was not the time to worry just yet. First he would have to survive dinner. The guard who allowed him entry escorted him down a winding corridor he hadn't seen before until it ended in rather small dining room. The red flowers on the window sill almost made it seem homely. "Her royal highness will arrive soon." The guard announced before retreating. Eragon briefly wondered how he was going to breach the subject of Arya to the queen. It would not be fair to keep her in the dark about her own daughter, but then again it was Arya's prerogative to announce their bond to her mother – if she wanted to share that at all. Thankfully the problem solved itself almost as fast as it arose for the subject of his musings walked into the room at that exact moment.

"Arya." He greeted, turning towards her.

"Eragon." She smiled back at him. They gently touched hands before turning to face the window together.

Eragon felt an unnatural nervousness about him. "Do you intend on telling your mother?" He asked, pushing the words over his lips before he could reconsider.

"About what?"

"You know." He said, uneasily gesturing back and forth between them. "Us."

Arya frowned, clearly not having considered it yet. "Well, what do you want?" she asked.

The rider shrugged. "I'm a little apprehensive about your mother. She can be… overbearing and I fear she would not approve. But she is also your mother and therefore she deserves to know before anyone else. And she deserves to hear it from the mouth of her own daughter."

A gentle hand slid over the leading edge of his feathers. Eragon winced, his muscles still sore. "Are your wings really bothering that much?"

"Stop trying to change the subject." He muttered, leaning into the touch. "This is important."

Arya sighed. "I guess you're right. I will tell her. I admit to being curious what it was my mother requested from you."

"A memory." Eragon replied plainly.

She shook her head. "But nobody can enter your mind. How would that even be possible?"

He shook his head. "It's not my memory she wants. It's not my place to share which one she does want. Though I think it's a foolhardy thing she pursues, I can hardly stop her."

"I think you are exaggerating." Arya said, trying to calm him

"If I slip up, the elves will be electing someone new to lead them."

Arya sternly took him by the shoulders and turned him to face her. "You are mine, Eragon Shadeslayer. And my man does not fail." She said in the ancient language. He could not stop himself. He seized her up and pressed his lips to hers.

" _For you, Arya svit-kona."_ He whispered in her ear. They hastily let go of each other when they heard footsteps approach. Sure enough it was queen Islanzadi herself. She was not wearing one of her usual gowns, instead she'd donned a much simpler tunic with trousers as if she were dining with… friends. Still her posture and bearing made it impossible to mistake her for anyone else.

"Eragon, Arya." She greeted them. Arya embraced her mother while Eragon made the traditional elven greeting. "Please, Eragon. I have already told you once that such formalities are not necessary.

"I would not chance angering you after everything you have given so freely." Eragon replied.

"A lie, albeit an eloquent one. You have made it very clear what your thoughts on the matter at hand are, but that can wait. First we shall eat." Despite the chastising words she smiled while she said them and it made her look suspiciously like her daughter. On her signal three elves with silver platters entered the room, curtly set them down in front of them and retreated again. On it was a delicate selection of cheeses, nuts and berries. The same as usual in Ellesmera, but of slightly higher quality than what he was used to. Apparently there was a benefit to being royalty after all. Eragon briefly wondered how it must have been for Arya to first transition to the food standard outside the forest in between humans and dwarves with little to spare. He would have to ask her about it later.

While he ate in silence, Arya and her mother engaged in a conversation about the military condition of the Varden. It was a stiff and uneasy one and it was clear that the seventy years of exile Arya had endured had left its mark on the bond she had with her mother. "Mother, there is something else you should know." The princess said, clearing her throat.

"What is it, daughter mine?" Islanzadi asked, delicately handling a grape.

Arya's hand sought his under the table. Eragon took it, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I have taken an interest in someone."

Ever so slowly Islanzadi's eyes drifted to Eragon's. "And who might that be?" she asked, never breaking eye contact with him. Eragon, not one to be intimidated, stared right back and took another bite of his food.

"I can tell you have already guessed." She said.

Islanzadi quirked her head. "And you think you are worthy of my daughter, rider?" she asked.

Eragon shook his head. "Of course not, but she thinks I am and that's good enough for me."

The queen nodded in approval of his words. "As a mother I always knew this day would come to pass, but that doesn't make it any easier. Then again I suppose it was obvious from the way you two have danced around each other ever since you met. Evandar used to be just like you, Eragon. Brazen, brave yet also wise beyond his years. At the time my parents did not approve of him." She allowed the silence to rest heavy as she took another bite. "However, knowing my daughter she will press on regardless of whether I approve or not. I wish that you two may find a better future together than we did." A feeling of relief washed through Eragon. He knew it was important to Arya to know her mother approved, even if she wouldn't admit it herself. Arya too seemed much calmer now that the high word was out.

The remainder of the meal passed a lot more amicably as both Arya and Islanzadi made an effort to include him in the conversation. Employing a bit of his natural charm he was even able to draw a genuine laugh from both women as he told them stories about his youth. When everyone was content Islanzadi called in the servants again who took away the empty plates. When the queen looked at Eragon expectantly he replied "What of Arya?"

"I will stay here." She replied before her mother could. "Whatever it is you plan to do, I trust you Eragon." She added in the ancient language. "I will wait for you to return."

He felt a little conflicted but wouldn't force her hand. In fact, it was foolish to even think he could. Arya had an iron will so instead he turned to face Islanzadi. "I have found and prepared a location this morning. If you would follow me."

He led the queen out of the city and perhaps ten leagues to the north where the mountains were more rugged and the foliage denser. Islanzadi had requested absolute protection and privacy and this was the best thing he'd been able to come up with on short notice. He took her into a large rock formation. It wasn't quite a cave, but it closely resembled one. The moss that grew up the walls glowed a dim blueish light into the night and provided enough illumination to see comfortably. "As you know I am incapable of casting spells as you know them I would request that you shield this place from prying ears. We would not want any collateral damage. Have you taken the potions as I instructed?" He asked.

"That vile brew you sent with Illium, yes I forced it down my throat, unbecoming as it was." The queen proceeded to cast spells around the cave.

"Trust me, you will be happy that you did." Eragon whispered. He had voiced all his complaints. Explained all the dangers. She knew she was going to tear open a wound so old and so terrible it could kill her. There was nothing left to do now except do as she had asked. "Whenever you are ready we can begin."

Islanzadi nodded and took a few deep breaths. "Take me to see him."

The queen wasn't the only woman he'd had to strike a deal with to make this possible. It had taken considerable effort to convince death that this was a crucial step towards restoring balance to Alagaesia. Even when he'd convinced her to do this it was only with the promise that never again would he seek someone from beyond the grave. He whispered to himself "Between subtle shading and the absence of light lies the nuance of illusion."

Carefully he stepped out of his own body and looked over his shoulder. It was strange to look at himself, but there was little time to ponder that now. Instead he moved to where the queen stood and firmly began pushing against her abdomen. He whispered the strange incantation handed down to him by the mistress of spirits herself until he began to feel the unmovable barrier under his fingers give way. He ignored the screams of anguish that rolled off her lips. While it came easy to him, it was undoubtedly a painful experience to separate soul and body.

After perhaps a minute of pure agony he had pulled Islanzadi free of her body. While she recovered he quickly made sure that her husk was still breathing and having confirmed it was still alive he turned to face the elven queen. "The next bit gets a little… weird."

The queen righted herself, looking at her own prone body. "Do what you must."

First Eragon led her further into the cave to where they were out of sight of his and her body. A perfect mirror lake that he had created with Oromis's help lay in the middle of a clearing sheltered by outcrops. Gently he took her shoulders and lowered her into the water. When she was floating freely he placed one hand on her abdomen, the other above her collarbones and pushed her under. At first she was calm and stared at him with curious eyes. Then that look turned worried as she began to push back. Soon she was flailing in the water and when she was he whispered the final incantation. When he let her go her body turned over in the water where she lay, staring at the stars with wide, blue eyes. "Rise, Islanzadi of the elves, and find that you are no longer alone." He said, taking two steps back.

The lifeless soulbody in front of him gasped, splashing water about as she tried to sit up. When she succeeded her eyes scanned the room until her eyes rested upon somebody Eragon could not see and the look in her eyes changed from panicked to soft to thankful. "You have two hours, I suggest you make good use of them. I… ah… I took the liberty of supplying a few furs and pillows. You will find them in the corner. Should you need me, which I don't expect, I will be guarding our sleeping bodies."

Islanzadi's eyes were not on him, but she replied nonetheless. "Thank you Eragon." There was a lot of pent up emotion in that voice. Not wanting to intrude any longer than necessary the rider swiftly retreated.

He had wholly understood Islanzadi's motivations. Should something terrible happen to Arya he would no doubt go to the same lengths she had to see her one last time. Eragon could only hope she could find some semblance of peace in these final two hours she had with Evandar. Death had warned him of what might happen for this was not the first time she had granted this boon. Sometimes a person drew new strength from the experience, but most of the time someone would lose the will to return to the living and instead fell into the abyss when it was time to part from their loved ones.

He sat next to the bodies and began to meditatively count the time away. He wished he could be with Arya right now, but they would have their time later. After an hour he chanced a brief visit to Saphira, but when he saw she was already asleep he swiftly returned. As time was running out he rose and returned to the small lake. Just out of sight he spoke again for the first time in two hours. "Queen Islanzadi, it is time to return to the living."

When he came around the corner she was just sitting there, shedding tears and wearing a stupid smile on her face. Eragon sighed, he had feared this might happen. Kneeling down in front of her he took her head between his hands and forced her to look at him. "Look at me."

She tried to push him away. "No, let me stay just a while longer."

"There is no more time. If you stay here you will pass to the other side."

"Then let me. Let me stay here."

He'd sincerely wished he didn't have to do this but he couldn't afford to hesitate. With a swift motion he struck her across the face hard. "Islanzadi, you would dare walk away from your duties? The world toils in chaos, your people march to war and you would leave them without their ruler? If you truly wish to walk away from your daughter then by all means do so. You will go down in history as a coward for I will see to it _everyone_ knows what happened here tonight."

Not waiting for a reply he grabbed her by the arm and tore her away. Ignoring her protests. If she truly didn't want to return to her body he couldn't force her back in, but he hoped at least a small part of what he'd said had come through. He dragged her sobbing soul back to its body and dropped her on top of it. "If you truly wish to stay here I can't stop you, but please. I implore you to think of the greater good." Islanzadi sank into his arms.

"Do it." She whispered hesitantly.

Not waiting for her to reconsider he began whispering the first incantation again and merged her soul back to her body. When he saw her eyes begin to flutter, a sign she was waking, he released the hold on his own magic and allowed himself to return to his own corporeal form. Quickly he went over to where Islanzadi had fallen and helped her sit up. "You will feel sick and enjoy a splitting headache for the next few days." He said when she groaned.

"I don't feel too good. And I'm tired, so tired." She whispered.

"Then sleep." He said gently, gathering her up in his arms. By the time they had left the cave she was sound asleep in his arms. He briefly wondered how he was going to get past the guards without raising suspicion. He was, after all, carrying their unconscious monarch in his arms. No doubt Arya could guide him, but he had no idea where her chambers were. Then he got an idea. Undoubtedly it was a terrible one, but an idea nonetheless. He had never done this before, but with extraordinary strength he forced himself into the air. It was exceptionally hard staying airborne with the extra load, but he managed to squeeze enough strength out of himself to reach the inner courtyard of Tialdari hall.

As fortune would have it, Illium was there as well. "What are you doing?" he asked, taking in the sight before him.

"Delivering on a promise. I'm under oaths so don't even ask. You wouldn't happen to know where I can find her personal chambers, would you?"

"Down that hall to the left." The blue haired elf replied.

"Thank you." Eragon replied, walking down the deserted hallway and leaving the confused elf behind. As he tucked the queen in he concluded Arya would probably be fast asleep by now in her own bed. And so he left as quietly as he could and headed back to his own home. It was a long walk to the edge of the city, but after that little stun he just pulled he didn't want to chance another flight out of fear of breaking a tendon or two.

In the dark he barely found his way up the stairs, yet to his surprise at the top of the stairs the lights were lit where he distinctly remembered having turned them off before leaving earlier that night. Unconsciously his hand went to Aurora, ready to strike if there proved to be a hostile intruder. Instead he was greeted by the sight of Arya in a loose gown as she moved about in his home. "Arya?" he asked.

"Eragon." She replied, slightly startled. "You moved so silently I didn't even hear you coming. Did all go well tonight?"

"Nothing unexpected. She will be miserable for a few days, but I believe she will be fine. Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought you would be asleep in your chambers."

She shrugged. "I missed you."

Eragon closed his arms around her. "It means more to me than you know to hear you say that."

"How come?"

"You came and went so many times that each time I have you I'm scared you will drift away from me again."

She tightened her embrace. "Oh, Eragon." Arya allowed herself to be tucked into his chest for a moment. "Come, I prepared the bath for you." She pulled him along towards the bathroom.

"Uh, wait. Arya. I really appreciate all this but are you sure it's… appropriate?" he asked nervously.

The princess sighed. "Eragon, Nemeya has seen you naked many times, hasn't she?" she asked in the ancient language.

Eragon couldn't lie. "Yes."

She folded her arms. "And you would not have the woman you call your own enjoy that same privilege?"

"That's different."

"Different how?"

Eragon hated it when she made him answer these questions truthfully. "Because I care what you think about me."

The look on her face softened. "You have nothing left to prove to me, Eragon. When I made my decision, it was final." Her hands worked open his tunic and gently pushed it off his shoulders. The moment was however entirely shattered when the fabric caught on his wings.

"Let me." He said, gently removing her hands and wringing his wings through the slits he'd carved into the fabric. Tentatively her hands touched his bare skin as she pushed him on towards the steaming bath.

"You should remove your trousers too." She whispered in his ear.

Those words, much to his own surprise, actually elicited a blush from Eragon. "Turn around then." He whispered back. When she did he quickly slid out of them and stepped into the bath, allowing his wings to rest over the edge. He groaned as he stretched them out. "If I ever find a permanent home, I will have to invest in a bath big enough for all of me." He muttered.

Soft hands landed on his shoulders once again. "I'll have it arranged." His breath caught as she gently stroked his overly sensitive feather carpet. "I have always wondered what these felt like." She said.

"As long as you promise not to pull any feathers, feel free to explore. Just… be careful. I have overexerted myself over the past few days and I fear my wings are just about ready to give out." Arya did just that. She worked away at the bones and tendons underneath the feathers, trying to work out as many knots as she could find. When she was done Eragon felt like he was reduced to wet clay, ready to be moulded.

She rested her head in the crook of his neck, her arms embracing him from behind. "Feeling better?" she asked quietly.

"Arya please." He whispered. "Please."

"All you have to do, my brave rider, is ask."

"Show me I'm not alone."

Arya inhaled and rose, stepping around the tub until she was looking directly into Eragon's eyes. Brazenly she hooked her fingers under her gown's straps and pushed them over her shoulders, allowing the garment to fall to the ground and leaving her in noting but linen wrappings. It took her a while to gather the courage but those too, she removed. Arya was truly breathtaking, Profoundly blushing she stepped into the bath and sank into the water next to him.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Arya. You are absolutely beautiful." Eragon said, pulling her into his arms. Her bare breasts pressed into his chest as they held each other. Her head rested below his, his legs tangled with hers. For a moment Eragon felt whole, as if he belonged and the weight of the world wasn't resting on his shoulders.

Arya slid up so she was straddling him and rested their foreheads together. "Eragon, this is likely to be the only chance at privacy, true privacy, we will have for a long time."

"What you are suggesting, it is-"

"Bold, careless, dangerous. Perhaps you are right. I have never known what it feels like to be loved, truly and unconditionally be loved until I met you. Perhaps I would have welcomed a longer courtship under different circumstances, but you or I - actually, more likely just I - could wind up with an arrow in our heart at any moment. I refuse to leave this earth never having known your touch." The fact that she had said it in the ancient language only reinforced the strength of her words.

"The only thing I would ever allow to touch your heart is my own." Eragon replied, sliding his hands up her back and pressing his lips to her own. Along the way his fingers ghosted over the scars on her back. The scars he had given her and she pressed closer to him as he did. "If you presume I have one, that is."

She eagerly accepted another kiss, doing some exploring of her own. "There is no presuming. I know you have a heart because you have mine." Eragon's reply went unheard as he trailed his kisses down her collarbone. Arya's breath hitched as his hands cupped her pert bottom and pushed her further up. The slight stubble on his cheeks grazed across her sensitive skin as he worshipped her. His name tumbled off her trembling lips as his sent shivers through her body.

Not wanting to let the favor go unreturned her hand traveled down his lean abdomen and took hold of him. Soon she had turned the tables on him. When their lips met for another kiss they poured all their longing into it, the ac itself becoming more aggressive as their pent up frustrations began to surface. Eragon caught her lip between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to break skin. Her breaths came heavy and wanting as her nails raked down his back.

The sweat they worked up mingled and made their bodies slick as they writhed against each other. So close were they that not even the water around their waists could come between them. Unwilling to wait any longer Eragon pulled her with him, lifting her straight out of the tub. Instinctively Arya's legs wrapped around him to support her weight, never breaking the kiss. "Get this damned water off us." Eragon whispered when they briefly parted for air.

A single word was all she needed and immediately their lips reconnected. Eragon managed to find the bed in a single go and pulled her down with him. "This is it, Arya. There is no taking back what happens next." He whispered into their embrace.

"This is what I choose to share with you, Eragon." She replied.

As a battle was fought for dominance between their tongues, Eragon rolled them over and pinned her hands above her head, leaving her completely open and helpless before him. With a single, gentle motion they were joined. Both needily moaned each other's names but Eragon did not yet move, allowing Arya time to get accustomed to him. After a moment her lips rose up to his again, giving him the go ahead.

Eragon moved against her, feeling her lean and strong muscles flow over him. One of his hands moved down to her quivering hip while the other ended up tangled in Arya's long, beautiful hair. Her hands now free, she sank her nails into the flesh of his thighs and goaded him on. Eragon sped up the rhythm and sank deeper into her, moving a little faster and harder. He had to fight the animalistic urge to ravage her, to become too rough for her but he would never hurt her.

Waves of pleasure rolled through Arya as Eragon moved their angle, pulling her up from the sheets and positioning her on all fours. He bent over so his chin came to rest on her shoulder and slipped his hand into hers, never stopping his movements.

Arya moved her body to meet his, the unexpected movement making Eragon growl against her ear. Her amorous moans rose into near sobbing whines and then fell into throaty purrs and satisfied hums. She so desperately wanted more and was happy when his pace intensified. His primal urges were stronger now, his hips speeding up to a nearly impossible rate. Moaning his name Arya collapsed forward as her arms gave out from beneath her. Eragon remained plastered to her, their hands still locked and intertwined. He moved with a ferocity unmatched by anything, groaning and speaking her name over and over.

Her lean body twisted, and Eragon looked into her big, green eyes, hazed as they were with passion. He felt her body seize up beneath him and he was only happy to follow suit. Neither made a sound, instead pouring their love into a single, hard pressed kiss that silenced all doubt and fear. Eragon fell forward, catching himself on his free arm so he didn't crush her. He kissed up her back, the nape of her neck and circled his head to kiss his lover's lips once again.

Arya responded lazily, her body feeling gloriously spent and a bit shaky, as well as a bit sore. The winged rider gently lifted her up and placed her drowsy body on top of his. "I love you, Arya." He whispered to her.

"And I you." She said, nuzzling the nape of his neck.

His free hand pulled the covers over them before coming to rest on the small of her back. "Don't ever leave me." He pleaded.

In reply she pulled her hand that was intertwined with his own to her chest. "Do you feel this? I am never letting go."

* * *

Again I want to thank each and every one of the reviewers, it's you guys that keep me going through this emotional rollercoaster. Thank you for everything! Below are a few replies to reviews that particularly jumped out. A few of you have already done this, but I will underline it once again. If you want to share something, ask for something or just banter you can always PM me!

Elemental Dragon Slayer – That name is sooo long… maybe I'll just call you EDS, or just Ed… Eddy. Congratulations, your name is now Eddy. Indeed you guessed correctly, organs and entrails were just flying around in this chapter, weren't they? Time to speak my ominous promise that you have heard so often… 'I have a plan for Faolin.'

Tylerlilibeth04 – I always make it a point to listen to my readers. Even the simplest single sentence can make me change my mind on what happens in a chapter. I agree with you on Faolin though.

Carnivore Does – Probably you should be mad and disappointed at me for promising something that came waaaay too late, but be happy that it still came. A bit like pizza. I hope you liked my graphic descriptions of murder in this chapter ;).

Mad hatter – *sigh*, I say this all the time, but nobody ever listens, so I will just have to – STOP SPOILERING THE STORY FOR YOURSELF! But all joking aside, the chapter after next we will have another proverbial rabbit hole to explore.

Vizual-Era – Well, you could always favorite the story and get automatic notifications when I upload, that would save some arthritis in your fingers ;p. It's good to be back, but even better to see you are still with me!

The Bass Beast – I think it's chapter 7 or so when Eragon is breaking Arya out of prison. He has a run in with Roran there who turns out to be Murtagh's bitch- er… servant. That's also where Eragon got Firnen's egg (in my story at least).


	29. Chapter 28

Hello everyone! I know this chapter is a bit out of schedule - if I ever had a schedule that is. I ended up rewriting this twice so it took a bit longer. I feel obliged to tell you that the next update will not come for a while. I have exams coming up in three weeks and this project really does go on the back burner when I have a university to compete with. A chemistry degree doesn't come on its own sadly. I will write when I have the time, but I will not make promises. It could well be the next update will take four weeks to arrive, maybe five.

I am still not quite happy with this chapter, yet I feel obliged to roll it out just to make sure I'm not stuck on this for the next three weeks or so. But no more about such sad talk, enjoy this here and now update!

* * *

The city of Melian lit up beautifully in the night sky. Maybe Eragon would have visited here some time. However, being set ablaze by Varden catapult fire, now was possibly not the best time to be inside of those walls.

"Someone get on that catapult! Now! It has to be moved back before the enemy manages to set it on fire!" Eragon yelled, chasing frightened soldiers out of what little shelter they had managed to find. By the time he'd turned around a large boulder had already wrecked the wooden construction, shattering it in to so many splinters.

" _This is not a siege. This is a slaughter."_ Eragon remarked.

Saphira swooped down low, raking her claws through the empire ranks while arrows bounced harmlessly off her thanks to a bit of Arya's magic. _"Indeed. Soon there will be no more Varden to lay siege._ _The dwarves appear to be holding up much better, though._ "she remarked, hinting at the dwarven machines that were chomping away at the enemy walls on the other side of the city.

" _Give me a ride?"_ Eragon asked.

The rider watched his dragon bank and head back towards him. With nimble strength he leapt across the field and gained a hold of the leather straps of Saphira's saddle. With some effort he hoisted himself up as she carried him back towards the city walls. _"Where do you want to go?"_

" _The gates. Nemeya and her elves should have gotten it done by now."_

" _The fact that Arya joined them wouldn't have anything to do with it now would it?"_ Eragon grumbled something dark and indignant in reply.

* * *

three days prior - Varden command tent

* * *

"What?!" the elf and the girl shouted in unison.

Brom tapped the letter. "It says so right here. I'm not making this stuff up."

"Show me that." Illium said, stepping forward. His eyes hurried along the page and lingered a full minute on the signature at the bottom. It was definitely Eragon's. "This is insane." He muttered.

Nemeya had already sunk down on to the ground. "How in the world am I supposed to gain authority over century old elves." She groaned, burying her head in her hands.

"Forget about the elves, they at least know how to behave. The real question is how I can keep two hundred rowdy humans in line."

"Well, it looks to me like the two of you should work together on this one." Brom said. "Now shoo, I have more important matters to attend to than your bickering. These were not my orders and if you have a problem go to Eragon with it." He waved with his hand to indicate they were dismissed.

"I can't do this." Nemeya muttered when they stood outside. "I don't even speak elvish. How do I command people who are a few centuries my senior and I cannot talk to?"

Illium turned to face her, his blue hair dancing lightly in the breeze. "They will respect you if they consider you someone worth respecting and contrary to popular belief, almost all of our people speak the common tongue fluently. That being said, I could teach you the rudimentaries of our language if you so wish."

"I- I would like that." Nemeya conceded. "Could you at least do the introductions please?"

The elf grinned. "This ought to be fun."

* * *

" _I see them."_ Eragon said, looking down at the ground. _"They are not faring so well."_

" _Well, what are you waiting for? Go help them!"_

Not letting her tell him twice he swept off the saddle again and entered a controlled dive. At the last second he snapped open his wings only to see an archer running straight at him, flaying around a knife. Quickly dropping into a defensive posture he knocked aside the stabbing hand, followed it up with a quick jab to the eyes blinding his opponent and grabbing the outstretched wrist threw him down to the pavement. Dropping down Eragon followed up with a swift strike to the elbow using his knee after which the knife clattered to the ground.

Leaving the groaning man on the ground he unsheathed his swords and quickly pressed on to the small courtyard behind the gates. His friends were holding on, but only barely. Backed into a corner wave after wave of soldiers threw themselves at the highly skilled fighters. While a few of the elves maintained something of a front line Nemeya was shooting arrow after arrow at their assailants. To his surprise the spell casters amongst them appeared not to be doing much of anything. Some distance away Arya was valiantly holding her own with the sword she had taken from the elven forest. Tamerlein it was called. While the green hue of it would suggest it had been made specifically for her it had belonged to another rider long ago. What was worse it didn't suit her by a long shot. On top of that she appeared to be exceptionally slow, her strength and speed not elven but almost… human.

* * *

seven days prior - Ellesmera

* * *

When Arya woke up she was laying on something warm and unbelievably fluffy. Absently she trailed her fingers across the surface before jolting awake. "Eragon, your wing, I'm sorry."

"They're strong." He murmured in an unintentional display of masculinity before pulling her back down.

She smiled. "We have to get up, the sun has already risen.

"I'll survive it." Eragon muttered, nuzzling himself back into the pillow. With an exasperated sigh Arya reached over and pinched his arm. Hard. Though it didn't quite have the expected result, Eragon did turn to face her. "I have been skewered by blades nights on end. Doing that will have very little effect on me."

She cradled his face in her hands. "One day you will have to tell me more about where you came from."

"One day, perhaps." There was a brief pause. "Did you find what you came for? A sword I mean?"

Arya moved away from him and slid her legs over the edge of the bed. She stretched like a cat, putting on a display Eragon found it difficult to tear his eyes from before walking to a pile of clothes – her clothes – neatly tucked away in the corner of the room. From it she pulled a long, green object. Unsheathing the sword she held it out for him to see. "What do you think?"

Eragon's first thought was that it looked unwieldy and clunky on her. "It suits you." He replied.

She must have sensed the hesitation in his reply for this time she asked in the ancient language. "But what do you _think._ "

With a sigh Eragon pulled himself from the tangled sheets and went for his own swords, unfurling his wings to straighten the feathers in the process. Taking just Aurora he moved a few paces across the room and took stance. Taking the hint Arya did the same. "Our blades are sharp, what if I hurt you?" she asked.

"You can't." Eragon replied before dashing in. Arya was a better with a blade than he'd expected and she was fast, but it was clear the sword held her back. Within thirty seconds he had scored very fine lines across her cheek, both of her upper arms and her abdomen. Instead of blocking the next attack he stepped forward and embraced her firmly. "Stop making me hurt you. I can't stand it."

Dropping her sword to the ground she returned the gesture. "What was the purpose of this?"

"I had to be sure." He murmured.

"Sure of what?"

"That sword," Eragon said, gesturing to the green steel at their feet, "belonged to a brute who walked into battle dressed in more metal than all the dwarves could delve in a week. It is too large for you, too cumbersome. Its mass is holding you back and slowing you down. It wouldn't show against regular soldiers, but don't try to face someone who knows what they are doing with that blade."

Arya sighed. "You are right, as always. I'd just hoped-"

"I know." He said, tightening his hold on her. "You should take it with you regardless until I can find a better alternative for you. I'd feel better knowing you had a good blade on you. It is, after all, my sworn duty to protect your life from now on."

The princess pushed him away. "I'm not some damsel who needs protecting." She said, clearly aggravated.

Eragon smiled. "You think I don't know that? It was your mothers request and I don't blame her for wanting to protect her child. Fret not, I won't stand over your bed every night… well, not for _that_ reason at least."

Arya laughed in shock. "You are insufferable."

"I know."

* * *

Quickly stepping forward Eragon reached into his pocket, taking out the knife he had been working on for days now. While it was not quite where he wanted it to be yet, he did believe it was ready to be field tested. Rushing ahead of the soldiers he threw the blade into the air and tackled her down to the ground. Covering them with his wings their world temporarily went black, the shouting around them muffled. Then the air was filled with the clattering of steel on stone.

Letting her go, Eragon pulled Arya back up to her feet. The soldiers that had swarmed the courtyard moments ago had successfully been reduced to minced meat. "Well, I think that was a successful test." Eragon said. "Does need some further refining, though. Would you mind?" he said, gesturing to his wingtip that was pinned to the pavement by a thin, razor sharp pin.

"What did you do?" Arya asked, briefly looking at him in bewilderment before reaching down and pulling the steel out of the white feathers.

"Shattering sorcery. I manipulated a large knife in such a way that it would fracture and explode in such a way that it splits into tiny fragments. Very difficult to get right and scratched me up plenty of times. It worked… slightly more enthusiastically than anticipated."

"Well whatever you did, I hope you brought more."

"Why? Do your own weapons not suffice?"

Arya sneered. "A nullifying spell rests on this city. I don't know where their sorcerers are getting their energy from, but the pool must be massive if they manage to keep this up for much longer. Do you not feel its effects?"

Eragon smiled back at her. "Magic has no hold on me. While that means you cannot heal me when I'm hurt,"

"It also means you are impervious to this sort of trickery." She finished for him, nodding in understanding.

Reaching into his pocket Eragon pulled out another one of his knives and handed it to her. "Get that gate open, our people are dying by the hundreds out there. It appears I have a curse to lift. _Be safe my love._ " Eragon added in the ancient language. He gave her a chaste kiss, leaving the princess flustered as he vaulted into the air again.

While he indeed was unaffected by the magic, it also left him at a total guess as to where the source might be located. To make matters worse he was drawing one hell of a lot of attention to himself which meant that arrows were whizzing by at regular intervals. Atop one of the inner walls he saw someone in armor shinier than usual. Undoubtedly he was an officer, since he was barking orders at the poor souls around him.

Angling down he swept over the ramparts and, knocking two soldiers over the crenellation, landed with blades in hand. The cowering guards barely put up a fight. Soon he had the commander at sword point. "Where are your spellcasters." He asked.

The man spit on the ground. "Ha, as if I would ever tell you that. Your puny little resistance will never take this city. _Never._ So for all I care you can go burn in hell."

"I don't have time for this." Eragon muttered. With angular precision he began carving up the commander's face. "You _will_ tell me where they are and if you are lucky I might give you a swift death. Refuse to do so I will destroy your mind to find out and your soul in the process. Do you know what that means? That means that there will be no afterlife for you. You will cease to be in every sense. Is that what you want? Is that what you are willing to die – no, to cease existing for?"

At this point nothing but incoherent screaming was coming from the man. "Last chance!" Eragon shouted, allowing his mind to press ever so slightly against his victim's just to get the point across a little clearer.

"Alright, alright! They are holed up in the south eastern tower of the keep! Please!"

One swift strike later a screaming head toppled over the stonework. "Smart man." Eragon said, wiping his swords clean on the fallen man's tabard. _"I am headed for the tower. The Empire's spell casters should be holed up in the south eastern tower."_

" _Do I want to know how you acquired this information?"_ Saphira asked.

" _No, you don't. But I will need you once I am through in there. I doubt the spell casters are the only evil holed up in that rock."_

It took perhaps thirty seconds for Eragon to close the distance and smash through the ceiling of the south eastern tower, much to the astonishment of the robed figures that sheltered beneath it. The center of the room was dominated by a large pile of bones emanating a soft purple light, a bit like the hue of his left eye except darker. On cue at least four or five minds tried to violate his own.

The effect was no different from when anyone else tried to do so.

"Talk or you will suffer the same fate." Eragon said, turning to the two magicians who remained standing.

"You shall never!-" Eragon's cut was clean through the man's spine before he'd managed to finish his scentence.

"Talk." He said, pointing the sharp edge at the last remaining magician. Before the last one had a chance to talk the door burst open, knocking out the magician, and Eragon was tackled down by something both very swift and very strong. A grotesque miscreation pinned him down using its razor sharp talons and unleashed an unholy cry into Eragon's face. The air smelled like century old rot. _"Saphira, I need you to burn down the damaged tower."_

" _Will you be allright?"_ she asked, having sensed his predicament through their bond.

" _Bigger just means more places to stick a blade."_ Eragon replied confidently before taking a firm hold of the slippery purple hide of his foe and throwing it off with force. With a cry it flew out of the open hole in the wall and tumbled down. Not wasting time Eragon picked up his blades and jumped after it. Barely a breath later Saphira bathed the castle in flames. A crackling purple lighting began to fill the air. _"Saphira, get away!"_

It was already too late. A massive explosion rocked the ground and through their bond he felt her pain as fine shrapnel tore through her wings with incredible force. From the corner of his eye he saw her wingbeat falter. _"Are you ok?"_

" _I'll live. Go kill your monster."_

He wanted to tell her to go and find help, but suddenly there were two clawed hands trying to get to his face. "Easy there killer." Eragon whispered as one of them almost grazed his wing. Overbalanced as he was he didn't see the other hook into his armor and before he knew it the creature had sent him tumbling over the ground with a nasty gash in his waist. Not lethal, but it was impairing at least. Eragon was prepared for the next lunge and this time his blades hit home, scoring long slices across the beast's torso.

The creature tried to get up again, bleeding profusely from the two wounds but it appeared to be having a rather difficult time keeping its organs inside its body and didn't even make it halfway back to the rider before collapsing. Just as Eragon thought the danger had passed another grueling howl filled the air. And another. And another. On the rooftops around him a small army of the eyeless slimy creatures gathered before vaulting down on him in an attempt to overwhelm him. _"Saphira, there is more than one of them."_ He said, desperately fighting off his assailants.

" _What?"_ She replied worriedly. _"I will get Brom to send soldiers to you."_

" _No. These creatures, whatever they are, move too swiftly. The nullifying spell wasn't meant to hinder the elves, it was there to ensure these things wouldn't have any real competition. Find as many of them as you can and spread them throughout the city. Who knows how many of these things Galbatorix has hidden in the alleys."_ Eragon answered, shuddering as he felt one of the slimy hands touch his wings.

" _But what about you?"_

Eragon smiled maniacally. _"Oh I'm going to burn these fuckers to the ground."_ Eragon fought for all he was worth and for once found he actually had a challenge in defeating these beasts. When he'd finally dispatched of the last miscreation he was utterly exhausted and more than lightly wounded. In fact he wasn't quite sure if the lightheadedness came from the heat of battle or from the loss of blood. When he emerged into the open streets again he saw Illium running by, charging ahead of his men.

* * *

Three days prior - outside the Varden command tent

* * *

Nemeya sighed, having just heard the news of their new 'assignment' herself. "a few of the men signed over to you used to be under my command. Shall I introduce you to them?"

Illium made a mock bow. "Lead the way, milady."

"Say that again and we will see exactly just how immortal your race is." She muttered before curtly striding off in northern direction. Illium laughed as he hurried after her. He was led to a collection of tents at the far end of the camp, bordering the dwarves. "Ritell, Crail! Get out here!" Nemeya yelled.

After a brief minute of rustling and shuffling two disheveled men emerged from the dirtied canvas tent covers and saluted her. Illium groaned next to her but was quickly silenced by a quick jab of her elbow that would have made any lesser man double over in pain. "Gather the men please." She informed. It took a full ten minutes – and a lot of swearing – but eventually the whole rag-tag band of bandits had formed up in front of them. "Do you want me to do it?" she whispered to the elf.

"I don't know. What do you think?" he replied nervously.

She glared at him. "Don't put this on me. These are your men now."

"But they are humans." Illium whined.

"Well, so am I, do you have an issue with that?"

"I- that's not the same."

Nemeya shighed. "Because I'm different? Sure." She hissed. "Guys! Listen up!" Without hesitation she pushed the blue haired elf forward. "This is Illium. As you are no doubt aware, Illium is an elf. He is also going to be your new commander."

A roar of protest rose from the men. "Silence!" the blue haired elf yelled at the top of his lungs. Surprisingly the unruly group actually quieted down. "I realize how… uncomfortable the situation is right now. In three days we will stand in front of enemy gates while death rains down on us and you are afraid that I will prove unable, inferior to the leadership you have grown accustomed to. I will not lie and say I don't share that same fear. Additionally I am aware of the many tales and folklore humans share that say elves are creatures of evil; that we stalk through the night and steal your children, hex your wives and drink their blood at full moon. I hope in time you will see that those tales are not rooted in truth. However, if we are to survive the days to come, we must first shed our fear of it. I have made a promise to a dear friend that I will give my all to make this work. All I ask is that you will do the same if not for me than to save your own life."

There was some murmuring and it wasn't quite clear if Illium's little speech had met with agreement or not. Eventually one of the soldiers spoke up. "You can take that promise and stick it."

"This is going to be a very long day" Illium muttered. "You, step forward please." The elf said, pointing straight at the guilty soldier.

* * *

To his surprise, after Illium and his cohort of trusty followers had passed, he saw the girl Brom had been harboring ride after them as well. It was Ajihad's daughter, Nasuada. Although it had never been more than rumors, she was supposedly to be the next in line to inherit the throne of the Varden. "Eragon," she greeted him from her steed, "are you alright?"

Eragon looked at his bleeding body. "No." he replied after a moment. "But I will survive." She nodded her head at him before riding off to the front line. Eragon watched her go and was sure she would make a fine commander one day.

Barely had nasuada left or Angela followed, wielding one of her exotic pole arms. She took a brief look at his miserable form before smiling at him and darting after the young woman. _"Remind me to kill her when the wounds on my abdomen have healed."_

" _I can also supply her with a solid lick if you would like."_ Saphira mused.

The image of Angela, covered in dragon drool, made Eragon laugh uncontrollably. So much, in fact, that the barely scabbed wounds on his body tore open again submerging him in pain. _"I'll just sit down here and wait for the world to stop spinning."_ Eragon replied, still laughing, as he sank down to the ground.

" _You should get some help. You are not exactly in a safe location."_

" _Well, then find Arya."_ Eragon murmured before leaning back and closing his eyes.

* * *

Nemeya and Illium fought side by side, battling their way up towards the entrance of the keep. The elf managed to deflect an arrow with his blade mere moments before it would have bored into her shoulder. "Thanks." She said, firing an arrow back at the battlements and taking out the archer. "You should teach me how to do all of that fancy blade work one day."

"Lessons in elvish _and_ sword fighting? I'm beginning to think you may like me."

Carefully she lodged another two arrows and unleashed them on her foes. The elves she had in tow were keeping up admirably. Better than her in fact, but she had to keep up appearances. They were supposed to follow her guidance after all. "You have no idea." She murmured.

Illium perked up "What was that?"

"Nothing." She replied curtly.

"We will have to scale the battlements if we are to press our advantage." Blödhgarm, the 'leader' of the elven detachment informed her. Strangely enough he had been the first to agree to their new commander, much to the chagrin of the other eleven. He and Illium had been the only ones to see the reason behind this new scheme Eragon had devised.

Presuming that they… the resistance, the elves and the Varden, were to win this war, there would have to be guidance to fill the gap Galbatorix would leave behind. Maybe this had surpassed their human counterparts, but Islanzadi, as well as Eragon both knew that the _only_ way to get there, was together. That meant that humans, however prejudiced would have to listen to elves and in turn they, however much more experienced, would have to listen to humans. Even if Nemeya wasn't the most experienced one, she would have to set an example for those to follow. The same task befell Illium. It was not just their project, it rested on the shoulders of the two-hundred-and-fourty-three souls that rested in their hands.

The obedience would have to become absolute, regardless of race, age and power. That in and of its own seemed almost an unmanageable task, but Eragon and the elven queen dared pray that hopefully, in time, they would come to respect each other enough to do so. "Do you and the others have enough left in you to pull that off? Reliably I mean?"

The elf with the purple-blue fur nodded in reply. "I can do it."

Nemeya thought about the two more warrior-like of her new charge. "Take Laufin and Yaela with you. I will try to cover you as best as I can." While the two elves frowned at her words, they didn't fight her decision and took position behind Blödhgarm. It was a strange sight to see the three elves climb the walls like spiders, but after destroying whatever it was that had hindered them – undoubtedly Eragon's work – they had worked a few miracles of their own. At this point Nemeya could only hope that the elves would continue to stand by their word and victory would come to them soon enough.

* * *

"What on earth did you do to yourself?" Arya asked, sitting down beside her fallen lover.

Eragon pointed down the dark alleyway. "You will find some fifty of Galbatorix's creations down there. I thought it best to dispatch of them before they could inflict any real damage on the rest of you. I'll be fine, just give the poison a while to wear off."

"You are drifting, Eragon." Arya said.

"So worried, you must think you are about to lose me. I am not dying, Arya. You are not getting rid of me that easily."

"Eragon." She said, cradling his face.

"I am _not dying._ " He reiterated in the ancient language. She seemed at least somewhat reassured by that. In the distance he could see the castle, where the banner of the empire now drifted down on the currents of wind. Atop the northern tower a suspiciously unmistakable elf with blue hair flanked by a human with long hair and a bow slung over her back raised the ostensive red and white flag of the Varden. "Would you look at that. I think we won."

"It would appear so." Arya replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Teach me." She said out of nowhere.

"Excuse me?" Eragon asked.

"You are better at what you do that I am." It was clear it took effort for her to say that. "You are better with a blade, better with your dragon, I would even dare say better with a bow even though you don't use one. If there is something out there that can hurt you this bad, I need to know how to save you. I must know how to save you, Eragon."

"Then it shall be so." Eragon said, taking her hand in his own. "I shall train you and Firnen the way Icarus has trained me. Well… maybe not quite the same way. But I warn you, the path is grueling, it is difficult, it will contain horrors that will change the way you think about me. Are you sure you are willing to make such a sacrifice?"

She kissed him. "I am sure." The princess said, before putting her head back on his shoulder again, watching the Varden celebrate their victory atop the castle walls.

Eragon sighed, leaning his own head atop hers. "I feel tired, Arya."

She brushed her hand across his cheek. "Then sleep. I will be by your side."

* * *

There we are, lots and lots of POV changes - I hope it wasn't too terrible. Again, it's not my best work but I must soldier forth in the name of this story. Now the part most of you live for - I hope - the replies to your reviews. Again - they mean the world to me. God speed everyone!.

* * *

ronnambi - I will have to read that story then some time. I truly wonder what you have come up with as it does not seem to be the easiest pairing to write. If you have any questions I will try to answer to the best of my (limited) ability.

Hell Dragon Slayer - First - you spelled it right. Second - you are forgiven. Third - we already heave Elemental Dragon Slayer (Eddy), so I'm now going to give you your own name as well. How about Heggy? I am only happy to see your ranting as you put it and you truly don't have to oblige yourself to write _every_ chapter. Of course I wouldn't mind if you did, quite to the contrary in fact. Each time I get these kinds of long reviews I get really happy just to see what people think content wise as its from these reviews I can learn the most. It really means the world to me to see you put all of those thoughts to paper (screen) and right now I'm telling you don't let anybody ever stop you from doing so. Ever.

Carnivore Does - Well, this is the first time I've seen anyone review _before_ they read the work I posted ;p. I can only hope it lived up to expectation.

Eddy - Yes, I plan to paint the walls a beautiful color of red- err... Yah. I'm planning to kill Arya somewhere in the future so they need to have banged before I do that. See ya later!

The Bass Beast - Well, reviews are there for the specific reason of putting your thoughts to paper and that's exactly what I want to see you do there. Since you asked, I will give you a very mild spoiler. There is a new 'power' coming (more like lore) very (next chapter) shortly. I could talk for eons on the subject of death. My perceptions on it differ greatly from the norm as I've found over the years. I believe that - even scientifically - there is enough evidence to make something akin to a spirit or a soul _plausible_. Not certain, not eliminated, but _plausible._ From there on out it's simply what you choose to believe since nobody has a clear answer on it. I choose to believe that death is not the end, but at the same time I know that as you say, many would kill for an opportunity like Islanzadi had.

Tamerlorde85 - you will find out a lot more about that next chapter. No spoilers ;).

Mad hatter - man you have been here so long. I just feel obliged to reply every time now. I'm not going to spoil, but I am going to tell you this. People _will_ die in my story, but they will do so on my terms, on my timeline, for my reasons. Just to name a few, which were already to be expected. Brom will die, but also Islanzadi, and Hrothgar... and Nemeya.

Stubbsie8 - It means more to me than you know to hear you say that. Both about the criticism and about enjoying the story. I can only hope that you will keep helping me to improve!

Tylerlilibeth04 - Did it really seem too hurried? Maybe so ;p. I just really wanted to get over that hurdle because too much romance and too little action makes for a dull story and nobody wants to read a dull story. Probably a bit of planning oversight on my part. Thanks for sharing anyways!

Vizual-Era - Well, you favorited me so the game is over now. I might as well stop uploading at this point ;p. I'm not too sure about E/A babies, but I have already written the ending to this story (sitting in a file on my desktop) and I think you will like it. I really think you will. Rest assured though there will be plenty more of romance and I might just hint at their first child by the end of this story. Maybe I will even rewrite my ending for you.

Reaping Shadow - Let me guess; I'm tied with rainxoxo for first place? I'd choose him over me in a heartbeat. I get the feeling he actually thinks ahead from time to time where I'm just making it up as I go along xD. Speaking of him, it'd actually mean the world to me if he reviewed on this story... oh well, a man can dream I guess. You are right to critise me on the subject of Eragon's healing. Quite honestly if I gave Eragon that too, he would simply be god-like and having a demi-god stomp over every problem in the story also doesn't make for very good reading material. I'm walking a very delicate balance and as such basically decided to make Eragon a bit of a glass cannon. Indeed you are right to say that was lazy of me as it probably was ;p. The remaining 24* (keep in mind Icarus was also one) spirits will come into play again soon and when it happens (next chapter) I hope to see you there again!


	30. Chapter 29

Well… Here we are… It's been half a year as some of you may or may not have noticed. So many things happened, so many priorities changed. I won't even delve into all the details but the most important points are this:

-Uni is still a bitch (and eating metric tons of time)

-I have started writing my own independent piece of fictionary work and am thinking about publishing

-Health related issues (and several rather annoying surgeries to go with them)

-I traveled the world for two months

This of course is no excuse. I'm ashamed to admit that at first I was tempted to abandon this work, but then I saw review after review after PM asking, begging or demanding from my return. When we breached the 500 review mark I couldn't in good conscience ignore all of you. While I'm not deserving of such a dedicated reader base, you all honor me – even if you chose not to follow this story at this point anymore. In any case I will be interested to see who is still with me and while I'm not going to make promises, I hope to stick with it again for a whiles longer.

After half a year I'm a little out of touch with my ideas. Some details are hazy, others plain out gone. This chapter is a bit of a wind-down from last one and ties up some obvious gaps. That being said I need to know something.

* * *

 **While I'm usually not one for fan service, I feel like I owe you one. Both for the long wait AND for hitting 500(!) reviews. Thus I'm giving you a choice. In the next chapter would you like to see:**

 **A) Eragon/Arya action**

 **B) Illium/Nemeya action**

 **C) Both**

 **D) Neither**

* * *

Just let me know in whatever way you see fit and I will carry on the story to the best of my abilities. Of course it would not just be a whole chapter of just PWP - that's not my style, but there is room for maneuvering. Without further ado, enjoy chapter 29.

* * *

Eragon was worried. Granted, a good feast was bound to keep morals high, but to do it openly on the streets of a city conquered the night before was just asking for trouble. Not _everyone_ in this city carried an especially tolerant view of the Varden and their cause and he wondered just how many 'mysterious murder cases' there would be to solve come morning. Public image probably dictated he should go and join the festivities, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to do it. Besides, he liked the awe inspiring view and quiet up on the battered battlements of the central keep. Unbeknownst to most below their victory here was a hollow one. Too many had fallen taking such a relatively small city and if their results here were anything to go by they would be incapable of taking on bigger pray.

Those, however, were worries for another time as someone more deserving of his attention sat down next to him. "Did you learn anything of value about the creatures?" Arya asked, leaning slightly into him. Eragon stared down at his hands, still feeling the grime he'd spent at least an hour washing off his hands again.

"Nothing of particular value except you should wear disposable gloves when you try to dissect them. They are literally meat bags held together and animated by magic. They have no organs, they have no vulnerabilities. The only thing that isn't made of the same weak matter as their bodies are their claws and those pose a bit of a mystery to me."

"I'm sure you will find a way to overcome. If anybody can do it, it's you."

While Eragon appreciated the vote of confidence, he wondered if it might be a little misplaced. "I take it your day started too early and ended too late as well?" He said, opting to change the subject.

She was silent for a while. "It's not our place to judge that. They need us, all of them. Know that they sleep better at night because you took that moment to talk to someone, to reassure someone."

"You forget that I briefly, if at all sleep at night."

Arya sighed. "Well they do, and that's all that matters. It's the tradeoff of occupying a position of power."

"Some would be included to disagree with you."

"And some are terrible rulers because of it."

Eragon shrugged. His mind inevitably wandered to Islanzadi and her odd request, but those were not his secrets to share. "Perhaps. I think time is the only one who can judge the true worth of a ruler."

"You should be down there, people are beginning to wonder."

"But why would I want to be down there when I can spend my time with you here in private instead?"

Her hand ghosted over his. "Because the war isn't won up here, it's won down there."

Eragon swept his feather cloak over her shoulder. "Then I will be selfish and a terrible ruler. Good thing I wasn't born in line for the throne." He murmured, pulling her tightly to him.

"You're a piece of work, Eragon. Fine, I'll tell you what. You go down there and show your face for a little while, and I will have a surprise for you when you come looking for me after, ok?"

"Hmm." Eragon pondered. "Arya Drottingu, princess of the elves, the fairest and most upright creature in all of Allagaesia resorts to bribes to make her lover do her bidding."

She gave him a look, one of those that females always used to ensure their men knew they were being stupid. "First, you are being insufferable. Second you qualify for more than just my 'lover'. Third…" her stern look gave way to a gentler one "what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

With a grin he turned to face her. "Well that's good to know. Should all else fail – and somehow I avoid being skewered by Galbatorix – we can always go live the outlaw life together."

Instead of replying to him she pushed him off the ledge with remarkable strength, ducking out of the way to avoid tangling up the wing that had lain across her shoulder. With an evil smile he allowed himself to plummet, wings limp, until the very last moment, barely missing the ground. He was sure that must have given Arya a scare and likely he would pay for it later, but he also knew she was right. He couldn't remain absent the whole night. To avoid startling too many people he found a suitable rooftop to land on that wasn't too badly damaged and hopped down into a narrow alley close to the market square where festivities appeared to be centered.

" _You've been awfully quiet. Having fun?"_ Eragon asked.

The reply was a little hazy and slurred. _"Yeah, loads. Hey listen, I've got something I have to get back to."_ He felt playful banter and… lust?

" _Just promise you leave Firnen out of it. Play is fine but give him at least a little longer to get used to the world."_

She huffed. _"Spoilsport."_ But he knew she also saw the wisdom in his words.

" _Enjoy the evening Saphira. You earned it. We all did."_

As he walked through the crowd – indeed mostly consisting of Varden soldiers and very few civilians – about half the people curtly acknowledged him and the other half just straight up ignored him. The only genuine smile he received was from Brom, who took a moment to glance his way before returning to his hushed conversation with a few dignitaries from the city. Truth be told he didn't actually see anything too spectacular until he found Illium, surrounded by his charges, living into the 'human experience'. While elves were never known to be particularly rowdy drunks, Illium was doing a fine job holding his own between his comrades. Much like one would expect Saphira to do, he had a casket of ale raised above his head and was chugging it down at an alarming rate – likely to compensate for the way elven constitution handled alcohol – while being cheered on by his comrades.

While Eragon had an inkling of an idea of how terribly wrong this was going to go, he decided that it was all part of the bonding process. Illium was an adult and perfectly capable of making his own bad decisions. "Eragon, can I interest you in something? I know the elves have hidden a stash of faelnariv nearby. Blodhgram insisted I try some and damn that stuff is good."

"Not tonight, Nemeya." Eragon replied, turning to his friend. He'd gotten used to seeing her clad in combat leather with her bow – much like he would have been two years prior. Now, however, she was dressed in an elegant gown in hues of white and blue. He suspected he'd have to thank Illium for conjuring it later. He wondered if the girl knew that she was silently being claimed. "What I'd do for a brandy, though. Unlikely there is any of that left in this hole."

She seemed momentarily lost in though. "Come to think of it, maybe I saw some in a basement somewhere. Wait here, I'm gonna go take a look for you."

"I'll be back there catching up with Brom!" He yelled after her as she disappeared into the darkness. True to his word he walked back to where he'd seen the old man just moments earlier. He was still there, though no longer embroiled in a strictly political conversation. Next to him was a dwarf and opposite him stood a long, slender dark woman. "Good evening. I take it all of you are enjoying the evening?"

"Bah, you humans drink like children. No spine. Maybe I will challenge that blue haired elf to a match later, he seems to have gotten the gist of partying!" The Orik stated.

"How has Hrothgar been?" Eragon asked. "I haven't seen him since the battle."

The dwarf laughed. "He sustained a minor injury when he sprained his ankle dismounting his mount after the battle. Such a silly way to injure yourself after proving victorious."

"Well, I think congratulations might be in order. You might be the first aristocrat Brom keeps around who isn't terrible company." Eragon replied.

Orik was happy enough to return the banter. "Oh you just wait, I can get really snobby when I don't like someone!" He laughed.

The rider then turned to face Nasuada. She made a small curtesy bow. "Good evening, Eragon Shadeslayer."

He replied in kind. "Well met, lady Nasuada. I must also ask your forgiveness for casting a shadow, however slight, over this night of celebration. We never had the chance to speak face to face since your father passed away. Though I only knew him briefly he was a good man. He will be missed."

"Yes, he will be. Brom, however, is doing a good job holding us together. He exemplifies what leadership should look like."

This time it was the old man who chimed in. "It will be your kingdom to rule soon. One of these days a stray arrow will find my heart when I charge into battle." Eragon wondered if a stray arrow would be enough to end the wintered veteran, but said nothing.

Azure and violet eyes returned to the dark woman. "Regardless, I hope Brom is providing good tutelage? If not you can simply say so, I will spank some good manners into him if he mistreats you." He joked.

She couldn't fully hide the smile that formed on her lips. "Shadeslayer, you are truly without shame."

Eragon playfully rolled his eyes "Yeah, most women in my life share that opinion it appears."

"So I'm 'a woman in your life' now?' Nasuada asked, taking a small sip from her chalice.

Eragon feigned a dramatic pose. "Alas, I fear your attempts to woo me are ill met – my heart belongs to another and another's heart belongs to me. Our love was simply never meant to be." Orik laughed heartily and both Brom and Nasuada had trouble keeping their composure intact.

It was then that he saw Nemeya trying to get his attention from the corner of his eye. "I fear duty calls. Enjoy your evening, all three of you. I do hope we speak again soon." He said, looking to both Orik and Nasuada.

"If you need me I'll be one siege camp over." Orik grinned.

"It was a pleasure to meet you. For what it's worth I think fate made a good decision making you the spearhead of all our efforts. I do look forward to working with you in the future." Nasuada added.

He then walked over to the lady in blue and sure enough she had managed to get her hand on a whole pitcher full of brandy. "A glass would have sufficed." Eragon said amusedly when he took it from her.

She gave him a knowing look. "I said so too, but the guy who this originally belonged to witnessed you fighting that army of ghouls. When he found out who I was asking for he insisted on giving me the whole barrel at first."

"Well, it appears I made at least one friend in Melian." Eragon muttered.

Nemeya made a face. "More than one. Most people are just scared – years and years of continuous propaganda led them to believe we were an army filled with monster who eat children for breakfast. They have found our rule to be remarkably… lenient. Besides, most of them were getting tired of the rationing, the curfews, the mysterious murders and disappearances. You have ridded their city of the grime that lived in it both literally and figuratively. Overall, actually, I think most of them are actually thankful even though not many will outright admit it." She was silent for a moment. "Say have you seen Illium?"

Eragon suppressed a smile. "Yeah. I think he could use your help just about now. You will find him over there, in that crowd of soldiers. Beware you might have to search for him lying on the pavement. He singlehandedly tried to outdrink his whole company combined."

She rested her face in her hand "I thought elves were supposed to be fair and mighty and mature."

"Illium is at times still a child at heart, don't blame him for it. Come on, go rescue your intended." He teased her, watching her go red as a beet. "I just have some errands to run before I get back to mine. You too should enjoy the festivities."

* * *

Nemeya walked up to the stage where Illium sat, if it even qualified for sitting at this point. "You are drunk." She stated.

Illium grinned at her, the stench of ale clear on his breath. "Not so, maybe a little tipsy." The men around him cheered in approval.

She stubbornly crossed her arms and gave him a disapproving look. "Prove it, get up and make it down the stage without falling down face first into the dirt."

There was a brief moment of silence before Illium did as asked, or at least tried to. He barely made it two steps before stumbling into Nemeya's embrace who was there, ready to catch him. "You have definitely had enough. You're coming with me." She chastised him.

Illium briefly held her in place and turned to his men with a sheepish grin. "Sorry boys, you know how it is with women. What the lady wants…" They cheered even louder than the first time. Nemeya contemplated letting him bounce down the wooden stairs, but refrained from doing so. He leaned on her while she carried him away from the noise and banter and towards the house where they'd been garrisoned.

Immediately his weight lifted from her and he managed to somewhat right himself. "Thank you for that. They needed to think of me as one of their own. I hope that little display sufficed."

She scowled at him "You used me." Come to think of it, she was actually genuinely hurt that he'd try to deceive her like that.

"A little, maybe? But I'm sorry?" he said uncertainly.

That was _definitely_ not what she was waiting to hear. She knew that she was being irrational, and that she was blowing this way out of proportion, but he'd _used_ her. In front of people that had previously looked up to her. "Illium, how could you?" She said, pushing his arm from her shoulder. "You can find your own way home. I'll find some other place to sleep." She was livid and had to get away from here before she did something stupid.

He stared after her. "Nemeya, wait!"

"Save it, elf! Maybe I will have calmed down enough to hear your apologies come morning!" She yelled, changing her quick pace to a run. He didn't give chace. A small part of her perhaps had wanted him to, but a bigger part just wanted to lick her wounds in a dark, silent corner.

* * *

When Eragon got back to the keep, where all officers and generals had been quartered, he found it surprisingly devoid of a certain elf. He looked for her in the corridors, on the battlements, in the courtyards and even in her own room. Granted, he could send out his soul self to look for her, but he was tired and doubted he could hold the spell for long enough. With a defeated and empty feeling he eventually opted to return to his room.

There, smack in the middle of his bed, was a neatly folded piece of paper. Carefully, as if handling a delicate sculpture, he took it into his hands and unfolded it.

' _I find it strange. Never before have I felt the need to do anything of this kind._

 _It is what you do to me, how you unleash parts of me that I never knew existed_

 _The better ones, and the worse ones._

 _You and only you can save me from the latter._

 _Make your way to the highest tower and glance south. You will know what you are looking for._

 _With Love,_

 _Yours and yours alone.'_

Eragon couldn't contain his smile as he practically ran up the stairs and made way for the highest point in Melian. The view from up there was breathtaking. Turning south his eyes scanned the darkness. At first he saw nothing, but after careful inspection, he noticed a white bird, barely discernable in the night sky, lazily circling one particular spot over the forest to the south. When it stopped for a moment to look directly at him he knew he was on to the right clue.

Without hesitation he climbed over the battlements and vaulted off the tower, angling himself towards it. He was curious to see what his love had managed to conjure up in just a few hours. Regardless of what it was, knowing Arya it was bound to be something entirely unexpected. At this point, however, he was tired enough that he wanted her – just her; pretenses and manners be damned.

" _I'm coming for you_ "

* * *

Next chapter I will return to answering a few of the reviews – but It's 4 A.M. here and I slaved all through the evening and night to get this ready for you. Between the choice of putting this off another day and answering or just going to bed and posting it now, I think I know what all of you would rather see.

As I said at the top, I read every one of them, saw every one of them... Felt a little guiltier with every one… Even if it remains silent now, this is my gift back to you.

That's all for today folks. I'm off to bed. Have a good one!


	31. Chapter 30

Well, here it is. Lots of mature content in this chapter – I chose to give you guys a bit (a lot) of both. Hopefully everyone can be happy with the result. Progression will pick up again in the next chapter! Once again I want to thank everybody who reviewed – I have read all your comments and while I don't reply to everyone (People were getting annoyed with 1/3 of the chapter being replies), I want you to know that I do take it all to heart.

Enjoy!

* * *

Eragon found his love not so much by looking for her as by listing for her. He discovered Arya perched against an old, weary tree, surrounded by an army of fireflies that lit up the object in her lap she was gently singing to. Not quite ready to interrupt her yet Eragon stood there, listing to her beautiful voice. So silent was his approach – or so invested was Arya in her work – that she didn't notice his presence. The rider would like to pretend it was the former rather than the latter. In his tired state, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift on her melodious song.

After fifteen minutes he could no longer stand it and fully stepped into the clearing. If Arya was in any way startled by his entry it didn't show. All she did was look up for a moment and smile at him before turning her focus back to the thing in her lap. She scooted over ever so slightly to allow Eragon some space. Taking the invitation he moved a wing around her shoulders and sat down next to her, leaning his back against the old hardwood. Even from this angle he had a hard time discerning what it was in her lap. With a sigh he allowed his head to rest on her shoulder.

It took another few minutes before Arya finally deemed the time right to end her song. "Are you tired?" She asked, a hand weaving through his hair.

"Not so bad it's disabling me, but I could definitely do with some rest. But that is not of any concern. I came here, after all, to see my beautiful princess."

Arya's cheeks tingled ever so slightly. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Shadeslayer." She lied. "But I did promise you a surprise. It's not quite ready yet. Would you mind helping me out?"

Eragon lifted his head from her shoulder. "What would you have me do?"

"Sing with me."

His wings rustled ever so slightly as he subconsciously pulled them closer to his body. "I'm not so sure about that. The last time…"

"-the last time I was a dense moron. Eragon," she tried to make eye contact. "Eragon look at me." Reluctantly he turned to face her. "I will say it again. I forgive you." He didn't look at all convinced by her words. _"Eragon, I forgive you."_ She repeated in the ancient language. Eragon's breath caught as he seized her up in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he said, releasing her. "Today has been a rough day. That's probably the first joyous thing I've heard today."

"Why would you think I still blame you for that?"

"I literally tore three weeks of you, _all_ of you, out of your mind and patched it up with my own defective thoughts. I'd say that justifies at least a little bit of anger."

She brushed against him. "Perhaps you did, but you paid with an equal measure of all of yourself. It takes courage to be so naked in front of another – especially one who turns you away. Proverbially speaking of course."

"Still my burdens are not yours to shoulder."

She gave him a look. "And mine are not yours to bare either, and yet here we are. Stop blaming yourself. We were both at fault and you did what you had to. Had you done nothing, and just taken what you did for granted, then there would be cause for anger. Now stop being daft. I love you, Eragon. No matter how hard you try you can't make me hate you."

"And nor would I ever want you to." He smiled back at her. It was silent for a few moments. "Now what would you have me sing?"

Arya shrugged. "Something about strength and grace. Just make it up as you go, you have a knack for it if your last performance was anything to go by. And don't hold back – I want to hear your voice as it truly is."

Eragon thought for a moment, then tried to oblige her request as best he could. He wasn't sure what the words he was singing meant, but it felt _right_. Soon he heard Arya's voice weave with his own and together they sat under the tree in the dark of night, surrounded only by the fireflies and the sound of their voices.

* * *

Nemeya was curled up on her side under her blankets, staring straight at the wall ahead of her. It had been hours, but she couldn't seem to let it go. _"Stupid elf."_ She thought. But in truth she only blamed herself for thinking that there was ever any chance for them. He was immortal, she was not. She felt for him… he clearly did not. She'd taken the dress and thrown it straight into the fireplace, delighting in the sight. _"All men are pigs."_ She thought bitterly. _"Even immortal ones."_ She fought back another wave of tears. _"Well, not all of them…"_ she mused, thinking of a certain winged warrior. But even she knew that Eragon would never give up Arya. Nor did she like him in that way. Sure he was cold, lethal… attractive.., but she knew that she would eventually perish in his shadow where Arya would bloom beside him.

There was a gentle knock on her door. It was at times like this she wished she shared that supernatural ability that elves and riders seemed to have to know who it was on the other side of it. She did, however, have a pretty good hunch. "Walk through that door and I swear to god I won't rest till I have put an arrow through your heart." She said, knowing full well that _his_ superior elven ears could easily discern it.

To her astonishment she heard the lock behind her click and the door open. The man had some serious nerve if he wanted to test her like this. She now wished she had worn something more than just her skin to bed. A few painful memories from her youth flashed by; times when she had been weaker, vulnerable and noticed by the wrong kind of men. She wrapped her fingers around the knife under her pillow, ready to strike out. Damned if he saw her naked – she would make him hurt like he'd hurt her. When she knew he was close, she flew at him in a flurry of anger.

Taken completely by surprise, Illium actually did sustain a moderate amount of damage to his arms and hands before he knocked the weapon from her hands and caught her flailing form around the waist. "Let me go!" she shouted, trying to push him away.

" _Liduen,_ please calm down." He whispered, "I can't stand to see you like this."

Her struggling only intensified. "If you don't release me right now I swear to god I will gouge your eyes out!"

Illium's grip on her only tightened. "I am not letting you go until you explain what I did wrong and you forgive me." The statement was final.

The last bit of fight left her as she collapsed against him in tears. Gently he rocked her back and forth, waiting for her to recollect herself. Briefly he inspected his battered arms, ensuring that there was no significant damage that required immediate attention. Reassured that there was none he focused his full attention back to the girl in his arms. That inexplicable enigma which captured his fascination however hard he tried to ignore it.

After what seemed like ages, she finally murmured something into his chest. "I'd hoped you were different."

" _Liduen,_ you speak in riddles. It's clear I upset you and it's killing me inside. Please talk to me."

She looked away from him, her demeanor now cold and distant. "Ever since I was young, I've been seen as little more than an object. A servant to some, a punching bag to others. An outlet for perverse and destructive desires…"

Illium frowned. Elves would never allow their young ones to suffer such a fate. "They hurt you."

She now turned to look directly into his eyes, her jaw set. "They raped me and used me." There, it was out in the open. The truth in all its naked and ugly glory. "And to everyone I was never more than a tool. When I first met you I felt something – foolish, I know, for you are an elf and I'm clearly not – and I hoped then, I hoped so hard that you would not prove to be just like them. I hoped so hard that you would not crush that fragile illusion. Guess I was wrong."

For a moment his hands tightened on her back, then he released her and collapsed onto his knees in front of her, bowing his head until it touched the floor. "I did not know. Please forgive me."

"Illium, you're losing blood. I think you should leave here and find a healer." She said, standing naked before his prone form covered in streaks of his blood.

He didn't move. "Please."

"Why should I forgive you? You have nothing more to gain from me. There is no reason for you to even be here."

A shudder went through him. "Because you are not the only one who felt something. And if there is anything of it left I must save it before it's lost forever."

A single tear rolled from her eye as she turned away from the mess before her. Slowly she walked towards the fireplace where the embers were still glowing, casting gentle shadows into the room beyond. With a sigh Nemeya sat down and stared into the remnants of the fire. "I don't know if I can anymore." She whispered.

Before she knew what was happening, Illium was next to her, his ruined tunic hanging haphazardly about his damaged limbs. Before she could protest, he gently cupped her jaw, his eyes hypnotizingly beautiful, and pressed his lips to hers in the gentlest gesture she had ever experienced. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she couldn't help but return it. His arms came around her, holding her smaller form tightly to him as he lowered them down to the floor, his warm and strong body hovering protectively, possessively over hers.

"When I first saw you, _Liduen_ , you were so much more beautiful than any of your kind I'd ever seen before. And your mind, it's sharp like the tips of your arrows. I knew then that I admired you, even if it was from a distance." He trailed kisses down her neck, his hands gently holding her back off the cold hard floor. "It was a distance I couldn't keep. Each time I found myself drawn to you. That's why I watched over you and was close to you when you needed me. I was so proud when you agreed to wear the dress I made for you so that all the world would know you were _mine_."

She actually smiled for the first time that day. "You keep saying that word, what does it mean?"

"What word?"

" _Liduen."_

Now it was Illium's turn to blush. "There is no clear translation to the common tongue. It's a word we use to describe something complex and yareful. Some think it's synonymous to 'poetry', but they have little understanding of the true nature of this word. I call you _Liduen_ , because that's what you are to me; complex and yareful and beautiful. And you, _Liduen_ , deserve to be loved."

Nemeya looked at the elf, truly looked at him. He promised her all she'd ever wanted, all she'd ever need. "I'm but a mortal." She whispered, a vain last attempt to deter him.

" _Liduen_ , there will never be another like you. I would rather live a few decades in the heat of your flame than an eternity never having known it." He answered.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I cannot offer myself to you." She whispered. "There is only the broken parts of me. But if you truly desire them with all their ragged edges, then love me. Love me as you promised."

There was nothing of that mischievous glint in his eyes that was normally there, just dead seriousness as he looked her in the eyes as if memorizing every detail of her. His hands never stopped caressing her skin as he slid down her naked body, loving every inch of skin he found on his way down. His hands roamed lower and lower, frustratingly slowly getting to where she secretly wanted them to be. Their foreheads pressed together as he first found her. She groaned his name as his fingers gently explored her, ice and fire down her nerves. Illium was extraordinarily tender for which she was thankful as her body was till riled up and ready to go off at any moment.

As his ministrations continued she slowly felt herself unwind and giving into his touch. Slowly she reached up, her lips finding his once again as his other hand gently floated up her side. Nemeya gasped as his fingers brushed the underside of her breast. As if handling a delicate flower, his hand traced its way across her skin, making her shiver with anticipation.

With equally tender motions her own hands found their way into his tunic, slowly pushing away the fabric to uncover hard, toned muscles. One by one he pulled his arms from the cumbersome piece of clothing, making sure never to fully release her. Her hands slowly moved down his wounded skin, feeling slightly remorseful.

Illium must have noticed her distraught look, because he smiled at her before assuring her. "I will heal them come morning. Until then they will serve as my penance, _Liduen."_ He didn't leave any room for a reply as he hit a particularly sensitive spot with his index finger. Melting into him she hooked a leg over his and allowed him to drive her closer and closer. With a silent scream she arched into him, pulling his naked chest flush against her own as he finally pushed her over. Illium couldn't contain a groan as she rubbed against him, making sparks fly between them where their skin met.

He gently held her, prolonging her bliss for as long as he could before giving her another loving kiss. When her eyes opened looked at him full of wonder, his hands settled firmly on her hips, holding them in place as he slid down her body. "You really don't have to." She whispered when she caught on to his intentions.

"You deserve to be worshipped, and that's exactly what I'll do." He replied before his lips found the crevice between her thighs. If she'd thought what he'd done first was good, it was nothing compared to what he made her feel now. She cooed and moaned incoherently as he worked on her unrelentingly. She'd have writhed under his lips were it not for those damned, strong, muscular hands keeping her firmly pinned in place. His name rolled off her lips in a whisper just before he drove her to her second peak.

"Illium, please. No more of this teasing." She begged, almost unable to keep the tears out of her eyes once again. He rose, claiming her lips once again. She expected to taste herself, but there wasn't even the faintest hint – just the musky, soft taste of _him._ Meanwhile his own arousal was making shivers run down her spine as it ground against her naked self, shielded by naught but a single layer of cloth. "Please make love to me." His hands slowly let go of her before hooking into his trousers and undoing them. With a serpentine wiggle he managed to free himself of the obtrusive garment.

Nemeya took a moment to survey the elf, _her_ elf. His bright eyes looked at her with nothing but love and concern, framed by that strangely beautiful blue hair. His body was sheer perfection and athletic strength. "You're beautiful." She whispered, trapped underneath him, his body pulsing against her own.

Illium wished he could see herself, her beautiful body open to him and her long, luscious hair sprawled about the floor carelessly. "It pales in comparison to you, _my Liduen."_ And he kissed her as their hips finally met. They groaned in unison as her muscles rippled around him, trying to accommodate him. His hands seized her body as he moved once again, eliciting a gasp from her. Her hands desperately tried to find something to hold on to, eventually one finding its way to his scalp and the other tightly around his shoulder as he moved against her.

Waves of pleasure rolled through her as Illium's pace intensified. Illium's teeth found their way to her chest where they gently nipped at her. The mixture of pain and pleasure made her growl, which only goaded the elf on. Their bodies, slick with sweat, moved in unison as she mirrored his motions. For the first time, his ever present control slipped, groaning her name into her ear. The sound was both oddly arousing and comforting.

She desperately wanted more and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing his body ever closer to her own. Their lips met once again in a heated kiss as he dominated her, owned her, loved her. She pulled his body flush to hers, where she kept it as he moved into her ever faster. His name tumbled of her lips repeatedly as hers did of his. All movements seized as they both cried out in unison. His arms desperately held her to him, pushing all the broken pieces inside of her back together and she could do nothing but shudder in his arms. It was messy and it was chaotic but it was theirs and nobody would ever take this from them. She looked at the man that held her, at his disheveled blue hair and sated look. This was how she would remember him on her deathbed, she decided.

Never letting go Illium rolled over, pulling his woman on top of him as his other hand tried to reach the blanket on the bed. After a few tries he found it and haphazardly pulled it over her exhausted form. Even though the heat from the fireplace and the blanket provided plenty of heat, her hands were clamped around him. She hated this, she hated being weak around others – but with Illium… "Sleep, _Liduen,_ I promise I will stay right here until you wake." He said. "I promise." He added in the ancient language.

She looked at him one last time, as if she were still afraid he'd disappear on her, before lowering her head into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his own arms about her, idly trailing patterns over her back as if to assure her until he felt her heartbeat even out and her breathing slow. Then, closing his eyes, he surrendered to his own dreams.

* * *

"My mother used to tell me stories about these kinds of trees." Arya murmured. "She said that long ago, when the riders had barely formed, there were still elves who desperately clung to the life they knew. While we will never know for certain – for he never speaks of it – at one time they killed Gilderien the Wise who, as you know, has watched over Ellesmera since its infancy. Legend has it that such sorrow was felt by us that his spirit remained bound there, even in death." Her hands never stopped moving as she talked. "When they succeeded, they tried to set fire to the city and succeeded in doing heavy damage. As the Menoa tree burned, its charred seeds drifted off on the wind, never to be seen again except on rare occasions. We tell our children that whenever they find one of the seedlings that has taken root, they should remember that life endures – even if we don't want it to."

Taking one last look at her work, she pulled from her lap and held it in the gentle light cast by the fireflies. It was immediately clear why he had been unable to see her work before; the wood in her hands was pitch black. "Instead of succumbing to the fire, it just made the wood stronger, harder, resilient. Some even say that it's impervious to all but the strongest magic – though that's not a theory I'd test." With that she took the smooth curve in her hand at gave it to him. Tentatively Eragon reached out to take it. Between his fingers he could make out slight discolorations and upon closer inspection he saw that they were not flaws, but symbols. _'A hunter is never complete without his bow.'_

Eragon looked at her, moved beyond words.

"I heard what happened to your last one and I'd feel safer knowing you had a _proper_ replacement for it. It's not much, but-"

He kissed her, cutting her words short. "It's perfect." He assured her. His hands moved across the entire length of the wood. He was astounded at how long it was. Had he been standing it would have probably reached shoulder height. "All that's missing is a bowstring and some arrows."

She had that knowing glint in her eye. "Arrows and a quiver you're going to have to find on your own. However…" she produced a thin, white object. "I think this will do just fine as a bowstring."

"This is sinew." Eragon noted, accepting the white cordage from her.

Arya nodded. "And not just any, it's dragon sinew." Suddenly Eragon seemed a lot less enthused at the concept. "Before you think ill of it or me, it was Oromis himself who gave this to me – as it had once belonged to his dragon."

Eragon frowned. "They dismantled Glaedr's severed leg just to retrieve useful components? That's cold and inconsiderate even by my standards."

Arya shook her head. "It was removed when Oromis tried desperately to seal the wound. When he was taken captive he held onto it – a macabre reminder of his companion – and has kept it ever since." Eragon considered this remarkably mortal behavior from the ever wise and composed elf. Somehow it didn't quite fit them, but then again even they must have been young at one point in time. "When Oromis heard what had happened, he may or may not have commissioned me to make you a replacement and given me this to use. Glaedr rumbled something about returning the favor to the empire as he did."

He looked from her back to the bow. Even if she had been told to make it by another, it was clear that she put in far more attention and dedication than necessary. Every surface was strictly level, each curve balanced to perfection, the laced pattern across the limbs set with painstaking precision. "If I'd known that you would make me something like this I-"

"You would have found some ridiculous form of compensation that I don't want from you. I love you, Eragon, and I care about you. This way you will have a part of me with you even when you travel where I cannot follow."

A single leaf fell from the tree and landed in his lap, shaded in hues of orange instead of green. Autumn was fast approaching. Looking at the bow in his hands he made his mind up. "Arya, before winter turns to spring, I will have found you a sword unparalleled by any other." He promised.

She smiled weakly at him. "Silly man. You know that Rhunon forges no more swords. The task you set yourself is an impossible one."

"I've sprouted wings and tampered with souls for you. I think I can find a way to a sword without your smith. That's not an averment, it's a promise."

"Always one step ahead." Arya mused.

Eragon weaved his hand through her raven trusses. "I have to be. Not being one step ahead is a sure fire way to get killed." She shivered in his arms. "You're cold." He ascertained.

"A bit." She admitted. "But it's not so bad with you here."

In reply Eragon put his new bow down on the ground next to him and pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him and folded his feathers around her, surrounding Arya with a warm, living blanket. She didn't fight it, just relaxed into his embrace which made him inexplicably happy. "I wish that I could be as strong as you; never tired, never cold." She murmured.

"The price is too high. I became what I am because it was necessary, not because I wanted to. And besides," Eragon stifled a yawn, "I do become tired – just takes a bit longer 's all."

Arya sighed against him. "You never look too tired when you're around me."

Eragon openly smiled. "I'm never too tired for you, love."

"You just looked pretty tired to me." She teased.

"Is that a challenge?" She purred something incoherent into his ear in reply. "I have unleashed a monster, haven't I?" He smiled.

Her hands slid down across his back, coming to rest just under the bases of his wings. "It takes one to know one." She said, gently raking her fingernails over the boundary where feathers met skin. It was a sensation that sent shivers down Eragon's spine. He allowed her to take charge, letting her push his back down to the ground. Arya's fingers snaked their way into his tunic, finding the laces that held it in place and gently undoing the knots before spreading the garment open like a book.

"You're in a hurry tonight." Eragon mused as she leaned down to trace the sculpted lines of his torso, but was soon silenced as her hands ghosted down even further, tracing him through the fabric of his trousers.

"I have had to suffer through Firnen's non-stop hormonal goose chase all day." Arya confessed. She grinned, feeling his own arousal bright as day. "Besides, seems like I'm not the only one."

Catching her around the waist he pulled her down for a chaste kiss. "How can I not be when the most beautiful creature in all of Alagaesia wishes to reassert her claim over me?" His words managed to elicit a genuine, full blown blush from the princess. "Also I might have told Saphira to hold off for at least a little longer, so perhaps I am to blame."

"I am very angry with you." Arya stated, pulling his breeches down, removing yet another layer of clothing from between them.

Eragon did some undressing of his own, pulling at Arya's combat leathers until they unraveled from around her beautiful body. "However shall you make me suffer for my crime?"

Her hand closed around him firmly. "I have a few ideas." She replied, shedding her top, exposing her skin to the cold night air.

Eragon hesitated, scared to break the moment, but he couldn't contain himself. "Arya, did you place at least a few wards around this place?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Should I have? I thought I was in the company of one of Alagaesia's strongest men."

Without pause Eragon's wings came up and around her. "That's not what I'm worried about, love. I'm a selfish, despicable, evil man for not sharing your beauty with the world. You are mine, only mine and I wish to keep it that way."

Arya laughed. Not in a hurtful or accusing way, but genuinely amused. "We are over twenty leagues from the city, in the dead of night, miles off the beaten path and _that's_ what you're worried about?"

"After all I've done to conquer your heart, I'm not about to release you so easily."

"I'm not casting any spells tonight." She stated defiantly.

"Then I'm not going to lower my wings." He replied, equally stubborn.

"Fine, have it your way." She sighed, smiling wickedly before taking hold of him once again. The muscles Eragon kept strained to shield her from view momentarily faltered as she gently moved her hand, coaxing him on. Quickly he regained himself, however, and moved his own hands down to cup her firmly through her trousers. Arya couldn't quite suppress the gasp that tumbled from her lips as he did. Like a cat she bent herself around him, her naked skin like hot irons against his own. "Eragon, I was trying to make it last." She moaned in complaint.

Eragon smiled, kissing her deeply. "While I see you in many ways, Arya, submissive on your knees is not one of them. It's simply unbecoming on you. However…" he allowed his hands to roam beyond the small of her back, further and further down until she involuntarily groaned in his ear. "I can think of a few ways to… drag this out as long as you want."

"Eragon you will be the death of me." Arya groaned as he removed the last of her clothing and dove into her.

"Of that," he replied, crooking a finger inside of her hitting a particularly good spot, "there was never any doubt." With tender care he bit into the crook of her neck, leaving a light mark. The effect it had on her was immediate as her fingers involuntarily clenched around his shoulder blades, her nails digging into his skin. The pain mingled with his own arousal made for an interesting combination, but Eragon liked it only making him renew his assault on her body.

Arya's world, encased in her warm cocoon and completely at his mercy, was soon reduced to little more than perpetual bliss at Eragon's hands. He kept her suspended right on the edge, wanting to find out how long he could keep her there. Unable to control herself any longer, her nails kept raking down his back in perpetual motion. The air was filled with the smell of sweat, sex and blood. Their bodies writhed against one another, slick with perspiration, yet Arya continued to press herself against his chest with force, trying to remove whatever space might have remained between them.

With a silent cry Arya began to incoherently spasm in his arms and Eragon couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Incapable of doing anything else, she just rested limply against him, breathing into his ear heavily. It took a good while before Arya regained some coherency and pulled herself up ever so slightly so their foreheads rested together. His own now over-eagerness did not go unnoticed by her. "My turn." She whispered, before moving her hips and taking him into her body. Eragon groaned at the feeling of Arya, so wet and ready for him.

She allowed him no rest, however, as she rose above him in all her lithe and naked glory. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, bringing them both higher and higher. Eragon, who wasn't content at merely watching, reached up to grab her breasts firmly. Arya groaned as his callous hands brushed against her sensitive skin and eagerly leaned into his touch. Her name tumbled of his lips incoherently as she moved a little faster and harder with each passing moment.

Eragon's hands slowly sunk down to her slender waist where they goaded her already frantic pace on even further. She threw her head back, looking like a goddess with her damp hair tumbling down in uncontrolled silken tresses, her body taut and stretched and her hands holding her flawless bosom together. With a vocal moan of his name she was thrown over the edge and collapsed onto his body. Eragon's muscles refused to listen as he cried out with her, the winged dome he had created collapsing on top of them. His hands still firmly wrapped around her hips he pushed her down with force, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could and leaving bruises in the process.

For a long time both were incapable of words, Eragon's hands moving idly on her back. "There is something inexplicably wet between my fingers." Arya suddenly remarked, breaking both the moment and the silence like glass.

"Yeah, you went pretty wild with the nails at some point." Eragon answered for her.

"Eragon let me see." She said, trying to remove herself from his embrace.

He, on the other hand, held her tightly to him and didn't allow her to move. "It's nothing. They will be gone by morning."

"Eragon." She said firmly, actually putting some force into her efforts now. "Let. Me. See."

The rider stared defiantly into the eyes of his counterpart for a moment before sighing and releasing his hold on her. A finger gently trailed down the marred flesh. "These are pretty deep." She said, a mixture of guilt and worry clear in her voice.

" _They will be gone by morning"_ He repeated, in the ancient language this time.

"Still, why didn't you say anything? I feel terrible about this."

Eragon shrugged. "I don't know."

She looked at him sternly. "What aren't you telling me?"

He rolled his eyes. "I enjoyed it, ok? Somehow knowing that I could make you lose control like that made me really happy. Sometimes… you know – sometimes a man has to know he is doing things right."

"What makes you think you're doing anything wrong?" She pried.

Something unusual happened; Eragon blushed. After a brief moment of hesitation, he leaned forward and whispered something into her ear.

Arya laughed. "Really? Well, I think you've made up for that with distance to spare. Silly man." She returned to his embrace. They remained like that for a moment before the now-naked Arya – despite the wings still shielding her from view - once again couldn't suppress a shiver of cold.

"I think it's time to return and find a nice warm bed for you." Eragon murmured.

"You're not joining me?" She asked.

"Only if you want me to."

She smiled at him. "While I admit that this is all very… new to me. I must say I have never slept better than the morning I got to wake up with you by my side. You're always welcome, Eragon. At least, while I'm not mad with you." She teased.

"Talk about being the death of me." Eragon muttered. "What are you doing?" He asked as he saw Arya move to put her clothes back on.

Arya quirked an eyebrow at him. "Surely you are not suggesting we return in our current state."

This time it was Eragon's turn to smile at her. "Just gather your belongings. I'll show you a shortcut." It took a bare twenty counts to gather their clothes, weapons and Arya's gift. "Hold on to me tightly." Eragon warned, before pushing his soul self outward towards the keep in the city. He'd been practicing, but this would be the first time he'd attempt a jump of this distance. Worst case scenario he would just wind up knocking himself out. When he'd found his bedroom, he willed them both to move there. The familiar darkness deprived his senses for a brief moment. The only thing he felt was Arya's warmth against him. When they next opened their eyes they were in his room. Eragon felt that he'd expended quite a great deal of power to get them here – but nothing too disabling.

Arya's stuff cluttered to the floor as she wobbled on her feet. Eragon quickly stepped in to catch her. "You get used to it." He soothed her, holding her upright. "It took me a while at first as well."

"Neat trick." Arya remarked as she sat down on the pristine white covers – one of the very few they'd managed to find in the city.

"Well, I'm glad you approve." Eragon said, pushing her down on the bed and shifting to move under the covers next to her. One large white wing moved to cover her as a second blanket under the covers. "Sleep tight love, tomorrow your training starts." He said, kissing her forehead before pulling her to him and setting into a deep, well deserved slumber.

* * *

Hell Dragon Slayer – Well, the important thing is not to let it get you down. Unfortunately usually time is the price you have to pay for that. I hope I was able to fulfill everyone's requests this chapter – someone is always bound to be unhappy though ;p. Take care.

Guest – Who know. If I end up actually finishing this story I might just post a small teaser of it and post a link to fictionpress – or maybe even to the amazon page where you can buy it. Who knows what the future holds.

Tyler - Neymar? Is this a typo or are you serious? Pretty hilarious one though ;p.

Mad hatter – trust me, I have many things but a life is not one of them. Thanks for pointing out my error – you're not supposed to go back and reread! (I know I didn't do that for sure). It's fixed now though.


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